


I Open At The Close

by mrsfelfoy



Series: I Open At The Close [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Divorced!Draco, Divorced!Harry, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, French Draco Malfoy, Head Auror Harry Potter, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Divorce, Post-War, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-05 11:24:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15169670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsfelfoy/pseuds/mrsfelfoy
Summary: Three years ago, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter divorced.For three years Draco has seen his ex-husband’s face everywhere he goes, and he’s had enough. Hermione gives him an ultimatum that if he can’t find a reason to stay in six months, she’ll let him live the life he craves in France.Will six months change anything? Or is it too late...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first long-ish fic and I’ve been super nervous about sharing, but thank you so much to everyone who’s read it so far!
> 
> Come say hello on Tumblr any time! [@mrsfelfoy](https://mrsfelfoy.tumblr.com)  
> Much love! xx

Draco just wanted to enjoy his coffee. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so.

 

He watched beadily as his ex-husband entered the coffee shop. Draco’s favourite coffee shop. As if there weren’t hundreds of coffee shops all over the city that would keep him well away from Draco.

He felt an unfamiliar twist in his chest as he realised that Harry was with someone. A woman. Draco shouldn’t be surprised, but it was easy to forget that Harry was equally as interested in women as he was in men. It felt like an extra twist of the knife lodged in Draco’s chest to think that Harry now hated him so much he was back to dating women.

Draco watched as Harry tipped his head back laughing at something the woman said. Draco used to make Harry laugh like that. He hadn’t made Harry anything other than angry in the last four years. God, Draco never thought he’d be a divorcee by thirty. A three-year divorcee at that. They’d been married too quickly, everyone knew that, but Harry’s hadn’t cared. He’d told Draco no one else could know how they felt except them, so who were they to say they couldn’t be married at twenty-three. Of course, three years later they only went and proved everyone right anyway. Three was quickly becoming an unlucky number for Draco.

Not that he was maudlin. Of course not, he’d never do anything that would make his father even remotely proud of him. Draco surreptitiously pulled his wand down his sleeve and cast a disillusionment charm over himself. Harry and his lady-friend had sat at a table so that Harry was facing the door and there was no way Draco could leave now without being noticed. Disillusionment charms were great, but they couldn’t make a door open and close without anyone noticing. Draco wondered whether Harry told this new woman why he had to face the door. If she knew about the war and how Harry always had to have his main exit in his eyeline in case he had a panic attack.

Draco wanted the ground to swallow him whole as he saw the woman flirt hopelessly with Harry. She looked remarkably like a female version of Draco. Long blonde platinum hair, tall, slim. Harry couldn’t get more obvious than that. Still, it made Draco’s skin crawl. He knew hanging around after the divorce wouldn’t be a good thing for him. He saw reminders of Harry everywhere; a new broomstick advert, a new Twilfitt and Tattings formal robe advert. Draco had stopped going to Diagon a few months after he’d moved out – desperate not to see Harry’s face everywhere he went.

And then there was Ted. Draco couldn’t leave him. He’d been so young when Draco and Harry had first gotten together, he didn’t remember anything else. For all Draco’s faults, he couldn’t let the poor boy think that what went wrong in Draco and Harry’s relationship was his fault. He had to stick around to watch his favourite little wolf grow up. Not the Teddy was very little anymore. Still, Draco would never admit how much he loved him with all his heart. Nope, Malfoys don’t do any kind of affection. Absolutely not.

 

An hour. An hour Draco had to sit in that damn coffee shop waiting for Harry and Leggy-Blonde to be done with their little date. Draco was fuming.

 

How dare Potter have a life outside him? How dare he date someone else like he wasn’t absolutely heartbroken by their divorce? Draco paced back and forth across the small living room of his flat, trying to burn off his extra anger. He wished he could just let Potter go. He had him, he fucked it up, he lost him and he needed to move on.

‘Draco, you’re being ridiculous.’ Pansy sighed through the floo. She was used to Draco’s small fits over Harry.

‘I’m not being ridiculous, Parkinson.’ Draco snapped. ‘Potter has gone and bloody replaced me! With the female fucking version of me!’ How could Pansy not understand how insulting that was.

‘Draco,’ Pansy started carefully. Draco knew from experience that when Pansy’s voice takes on a soft tone, you’re in trouble. ‘Did you expect him to stay alone forever?’ She asked him gently. That took the wind out of Draco’s sails. He stopped pacing. He felt cold all over, like he’d been drenched in ice water. Pansy said nothing.

‘No.’ He said, his voice wavering. Of course he hadn’t. He couldn’t ask Harry to stay sad and alone forever just because Draco couldn’t be what he wanted.

‘Maybe it’s time you did something new? Get your mind away from Potter. Go on a date, buy some new clothes, take up golf or something.’ Draco rolled his eyes.

‘Golf? Really Pans, do I look like a middle-aged muggle bank manager?’ Pansy scoffed.

‘If you keep moping around like this then yes, that’s exactly what you’ll look like.’ Sometimes, Draco really hates Pansy. She had a point though. Nothing about Draco’s life had changed at all. After the war, Pansy had gone off to Dubai to head up some fancy corporation Draco never listened to her tell him about. He needed some of Pansy’s balls.

‘Parkinson.’ He declared decisively. ‘Get the fuck out of my floo.’ Unlike any other human on the planet, Pansy grinned madly.

‘YES!’ She yelled, and the connection closed.

∞

‘YOU CAN’T MOVE TO FRANCE!’ Hermione shouted in Draco’s face. He’d asked her to have lunch with him to tell her about his plans for project _Move On From Harry_.

‘Hermione, please.’ Draco said, rubbing his forehead. He didn’t need another rant, he’d already had one when he’d had the self-same conversation with Pansy. ‘I can, and I will. I don’t see why this is such a big deal. There really isn’t much keeping me here anymore and I need a change of scenery.’

The only thing worse than an angry Hermione, is a sympathetic Hermione.

‘Oh, Draco. I understand, I really do, but surely there’s something less drastic you can do than moving to another country.’ His gaze dropped to his half-eaten salad. He couldn’t look at her when she was giving him that look with those big brown eyes. Who knew how Ronald didn’t bend to her every whim. Who was he kidding? Of course he did.

‘Hermione, what do you want me to say? It’s been three years and I’m not any better than I was. I need to get out of here, I need to not see him around every week, I need space to figure out who I am without him.’ He knew it was cowardly. A better man than him would just come right out and say that he was still in love with Harry Potter and seeing his face made him want to tear his hair out and cry.

‘What about Teddy? He adores you Draco, you promised him when you left Harry that you’d still be there for him.’ Trust Hermione Granger-Weasley to cut straight to the chase. That woman wasn’t known for holding her punches.

‘I did _not_ leave Harry.’ Draco said petulantly. It was always a source of contention; whether Draco left Harry or Harry left Draco.

‘That’s not the point, Draco. Teddy needs you. He loves you just as much as he loves Harry and children can’t have too many loving influences in their life.’ Draco knows she’s right, he knows that Teddy is the most important thing in his life at the minute, but he’s at his wit’s end.

‘I can’t keep doing this,’ he tells her. ‘It’s too much.’ He hadn’t admitted it to anyone, how much the divorce had taken its toll on him. He’s not even angry anymore, he can’t be. He doesn’t resent Harry for the way things ended, he just wishes there was another way.

‘Give it a bit longer Draco, please.’ Hermione pleads with him. She reaches across the table and takes his hand in hers. He never would’ve thought he’d be sat having lunch with Hermione Granger, using her as an emotional crutch.

‘It’s been three years Granger, haven’t I given it long enough?’ She smirks at his slip, she’s not been Granger for a long time and she can always tell she’s getting through if he accidently calls her by her old name.

‘Six months. Just wait it out six months. I swear you can do all the planning and organising you need in that time, but don’t leave for six months. Can you do that, for me?’ He thinks about it.

‘Ok, fine. Six months. Not a day more, Granger, and if I don’t have the most concrete reason in the world to stay here then I’ll be gone. Don’t think otherwise.’ In truth, Draco was scared that if he did leave, Teddy would never forgive him. Of course, Hermione knew that and was playing on his weakness. Bloody Gryffindors, Draco swears most of them are snakes in disguise.

‘I really need to go; my lunch hour is up.’ They kiss each other’s cheeks and Hermione makes her way over to the lifts while Draco heads for the ministry floo. The food in the atrium really was always terrible.

His resolve was somewhat diminished by the time the floo spat him out into his small flat. It had just meant to be a stop-gap in the early days after the split. Draco had half expected Harry to come charging after him and tell him it had all been a huge mistake and he didn’t want him to go. Draco’s life obviously wasn’t destined to be a crummy romance novel.

Somehow, he’d never been able to bring himself to leave. He supposed that said a lot about how he felt about the whole thing, but he was never quite willing to admit defeat and buy somewhere more permanent. This flat was small and cramped and half of his stuff was probably ruined now that it had spent three years under a shrinking charm, but he’d done his best to make this place a home.

He strode over to a cabinet in the corner of the living room/kitchen and pulled out a battered old pensieve. It had belonged to his grandfather and Draco had managed to save it from the Manor before it had been auctioned off as ‘war reparations’. Draco wasn’t bitter, he needed an excuse not to live in that death trap anymore.

He didn’t need to look long to find the memory he was looking for, it was the most viewed of all the memories he had collected in the few short years since he’d been doing this. After the war, a mind healer had told him viewing his memories from a distance might help him understand the trauma he went through. At the time he’d thought it was bullshit but it seemed to help, and he’d been doing it ever since.

The label on the vial was almost worn off and every time Draco reached for it he reminded himself he needed to make a new one – he never did. He tipped the silvery memory into the bowl and watched it swirl around, waiting for him.

With much less trepidation than he’d had the first time he’d viewed this particular memory, he delved in. 

_‘Not this again!’ Draco heard his own whiny voice drawl._

_‘YES THIS AGAIN!’ Harry bellowed in his face. Harry’s face was as red as a tomato and the veins of his neck were standing so proud Draco could actually see the blood pumping through. Far too quickly for his liking._

__‘_ Harry please don’t do this now, we’re going to be late.’ They were late for their third anniversary dinner reservations. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, but Luna had agreed to watch Teddy for the night and Draco didn’t want to leave him there any longer than he really had to. Teddy had been sick for the past week and although he seemed to be better now, Draco was still worried._

_‘Why shouldn’t I do this now? It’s never a good time for you, is it?’ Harry spat angrily. Draco tried his best to maintain his calm, but the real Draco knew if he could see the memory of himself, his face would be telling a different story._

_‘It’s our anniversary, Harry. I just want to spend a lovely evening with you, and you can go on a rampage about the injustice of it all tomorrow.’ This didn’t wash with Harry._

_‘Why do you always talk like that? Like I’m being unreasonable. They’ve rejected you from healer training three times now Draco, when are you going to start standing up for yourself? You’re more than qualified for the course, you’re better than half the applicants they accept.’ Draco could see Harry wasn’t about to let this one go. It wasn’t that Draco wasn’t disappointed, he’d loved to have been a healer, but he couldn’t pretend like he didn’t have a bad track record. He’s not sure how he’d feel if his healer was a Death Eater either._

_‘I understand Harry. I don’t like it any more than you do but I can’t make people believe I’m not who I was, or more to the point, that I’m not my father. I just have to accept that I won’t be a healer. It’s not the end of the world, there are other careers I can choose that will still help other people.’ They’d had this argument each time Draco had received a rejection owl. Harry didn’t seem to understand that Draco didn’t want to make a fuss, it would only drag his name through the mud even more._

_‘Stop apologising for who you are Draco! You shouldn’t have to.’ Draco wished Harry had picked any other time. He was wearing the new suit Draco had bought him at a fancy new tailor, the dark grey really made the brilliant green of his eyes sparkle._

_‘I’m not apologising for who I am, Harry. Is that what you think I should be doing?’ Draco kept his voice steady, but hearing it back now as a memory, it sounded low and cold._

_‘What? No! Of course I don’t! I’m just saying. You don’t even fight for it anymore, you just let people treat you like shit! You never hurt anyone, you never committed a crime. Yet here you are, hiding from the world like a criminal.’ Ok, that had never been part of this argument before. Draco let his composure go._

_‘EXCUSE ME?’ He almost screamed in Harry’s face, ‘WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? IN CASE YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED, I’VE BEEN BUILDING A LIFE QUITE HAPPILY HERE WITH YOU, AND WITH TEDDY. WHAT EXACTLY IS WRONG WITH THAT? JUST BECAUSE I DON’T PARADE MYSELF DOWN DIAGON EVERY CHANCE I GET, SHOWING OFF MY ‘WHIMSICAL MARRIAGE TO THE BOY WONDER’, DOESN’T MEAN I’M HIDING!’ Draco had never been so angry in his life._

_‘I don’t want you to parade me down Diagon, Draco, I’m not a bloody consolation prize! I just thought you’d fight for what you want just a little bit more. What’s so bad about that?’_

_‘A consolation prize?’ Draco faltered. ‘You think that’s what I think about you? You’re my husband Harry, I love you.’_

_‘Do you?!’ Harry shot back. ‘Because it seems to me that you’re just hanging around here for Teddy. The late nights, the constant potions brewing, you think I can’t tell when you don’t want to be here?’ The room was still. Draco wasn’t sure he could even process what he was hearing. Harry didn’t think he loved him anymore? Couldn’t he see that everything Draco was doing was for him? To make their life, their marriage, as happy as it could be._

_The moment was lost. Draco had waited too long in his stunned silence. He could see it in Harry’s face. The anger dropped, and his face became a careful neutral, the kind of face Draco would have pulled before he’d met Harry, when he used to try not to give too much away._

_‘I see.’ Harry said, his words choked._

_‘No, Harry, I-’ Draco didn’t even know what to say to fix it._

_‘It’s fine,’ Harry interrupted, ‘I get it.’ He turned tails and walked away. Draco stood there in a state of shock for he didn’t know how long, but Harry didn’t come back._

The memory ended, and the present Draco found himself on the floor of his dingy little flat.  In the end, Draco had taken the floo to Luna’s where he’d cried himself to sleep. When he’d tried to return the next day, Harry had blocked the floo. Weeks of unanswered owls had told Draco all he needed to know. In the end, Hermione had gone to the house to collect Draco’s things. A few weeks after that, divorce papers landed on Luna’s kitchen table and Draco wondered where in the world his marriage had gone.

After a while, he picked himself up off the floor and went into his bedroom. He routed around at the back of the small wardrobe he now had after he’d thrown most of his clothes away and picked out a small black box. He pulled it open with shaky hands and stared at the platinum band nestled in the cushion.

It wouldn’t matter if Draco was robbed at gunpoint or his flat burned down, nothing in the world would make him part with his wedding ring. It didn’t matter that the relationship it symbolised was nothing anymore, this simple band was a reminder that he’d even had Harry at all and he wouldn’t part with it for the world.

He slipped the ring on, the cold metal stinging his finger just a bit, and he hauled himself into bed, fully clothed. He fell asleep dreaming of jet black hair and green eyes.

∞

That Friday, Draco was nearly bowled over when he arrived at his Aunt Andromeda’s by a blur of bright turquoise.

‘DRACO!’ Teddy yelled as he all but attacked Draco round the waist. Draco was taken completely by surprise.

‘Ted?’ He questioned. Teddy had been a cuddly baby but from about three onwards he’d only ever really hugged Harry. They’d all come to accept that Teddy wasn’t a particularly affectionate person, and now by eleven he was entering his ‘I’m too cool for hugs’ phase. Teddy just stayed clinging onto Draco and he was forced to wrap his arms around the boy’s skinny frame for fear he would knock him over if he didn’t.

‘mmfm.’ Teddy muffled into Draco’s shirt.

‘I didn’t catch that.’ Draco said, his eyes meeting Andromeda’s as she entered the drawing room to greet him. She seemed as astounded as Draco at Teddy’s unusual behaviour. Teddy lifted his head so that his face wasn’t squished against Draco and said much clearer.

‘Missed you.’ He said more clearly, his eyes glittering. Draco’s chest ached. It was made so much worse when Teddy’s bright hair turned the exact silvery shade of Draco’s own. He felt like something was trying to claw his heart straight out of his chest.

‘Woah, Teddy. What’s going on?’ Draco was not equipped to deal with an emotional child, this was always Harry’s thing. Draco prised Teddy’s arms off him and took him through to the living room. Back when Draco had lived with Harry, the kitchen had always been the hub of the house, where all the important conversations happened. Draco had never even seen Andromeda’s kitchen.

They sat down on the sofa together and Teddy all but crawled into Draco’s lap like he had when he was little. Except now he wasn’t shoving his stuffed pigmy puffs in Draco’s face.

‘Ted, you’re getting a bit old for this.’ Draco said, trying to distribute Teddy’s weight more evenly. Teddy let out a sob and all but buried himself in Draco. Draco was floundering, Teddy had never behaved like this before and Draco had no idea what he was doing. He decided the safest course of action was to, probably quite awkwardly, pat his back and wait to let him talk.

‘I don’t want to go to Hogwarts.’ He said. His voice was still muffled, but this time Draco was able to understand. Oh.

‘Teddy, you know that just because you’re going to Hogwarts soon, doesn’t mean that you can’t talk to me all the time. We’re all just an owl away. Harry will love sending you owls, he never got very many when he was at school.’ Draco remembered how Harry’s eyes would light up whenever he got an owl. Of course, Draco had hated him back then and he was obviously only watching him to make sure his mail wasn’t plotting Draco’s demise.

‘But…but…there’ll be even less time!’ Teddy cried. His grip on Draco was starting to hurt, but he said nothing.

‘Less time for what?’ Draco probed him gently. Teddy sometimes had trouble getting his words out when he got worked up.

‘I already have to-to take turns seeing you and seeing Dad and I haven’t seen you all week and-and when I go to school I’ll have to choose who to see at Christmas and-’ He babbled, almost running out of breath. It still hurt Draco hearing Teddy call Harry ‘dad’. He’d started doing it when he was five. Draco remembers how he couldn’t understand why Harry couldn’t be his dad when his first one wanted him to be. It was really simple logic, and no one quite knew how to argue with him so from then on, Harry became Dad.

Teddy lived with Harry now that Andromeda was getting on a bit. Draco had been furious when Harry had moved him in without consulting Draco first, but Draco hadn’t been able to stay angry for long, not when Teddy was so cute, and Harry was so smitten. The poor woman hadn’t been spared in any way though, since her home had become a half-way house so that Draco and Harry needn’t see anything of each other.

‘Hey, hey, don’t panic. It’s not so bad, you’re getting way too ahead of yourself. Just wait until you get there and you get engrossed in all your lessons and your friends. You’ll forget all about us.’

‘I WON’T FORGET YOU!’ Teddy yelled frantically in his ear. Yeah, this is definitely why Harry always did this.

‘That’s not what I meant, Ted. I just meant that it seems like it’s a really big deal now, but you’ll be so excited that it’ll pass by in the blink of an eye and you’ll see us all again before you know it.’ Draco had no idea if he was saying any of this right. Once he’d decided that he wasn’t going to follow his father’s plan for him to marry and produce a Malfoy heir, he’d been resigned to the idea he’d never have children. That was before Teddy.

‘Love you, Draco.’ Teddy said. Draco’s chest swelled. Teddy didn’t say it very often, which only meant that it was so much more special when he did.

‘I love you too.’ Their little moment was ruined by a cough from across the room. Draco’s entire body tensed, and Teddy must’ve sensed it since he only gripped him tighter.

‘Potter.’

‘Draco.’

‘Dad?’ Potter’s stony gaze softened the minute he saw Teddy in a state. He came rushing over and for a brief minute, it was like nothing had changed.

‘Hey buddy,’ he said, kneeling down in front of Teddy. For the first time ever, Teddy didn’t turn away from Draco and go straight to Harry. Harry seemed to realise from this that something serious was going on.

‘Teddy’s a bit scared of going to school in September.’ Draco told Harry, trying to save some time.

‘No, I’m not.’ Teddy sniffled. ‘I’m scared of…’ Harry caught Draco’s eye as they waited for Teddy to figure out what he wanted to say. Draco’s heart was racing. This was the longest he and Harry had been in the same room together since the divorce, and Draco didn’t know how to feel. ‘I’m scared of you not being here when I come back.’

Silence.

Harry looked like he was about to start crying and Draco would never admit it, but he wasn’t far behind him. Draco began to feel a familiar twist of guilt in the pit of his stomach when he realised that if he did indeed to go France, he’d only be proving to Teddy that his fears were well founded.

‘Teddy, listen to me.’ Harry said gently. Teddy finally eased his vice-like grip on Draco. ‘I’m not going anywhere ok. Nothing will take me away from you. You’ll go to school and I’ll go to work, and when you come back to see me at Christmas it’ll be like I never went anywhere, yeah?’ Draco had to appreciate that there was always something calming about Harry’s presence. At first, Draco had wondered if it was a side effect of Harry’s magic, but eventually he came to realise it was just Harry.

‘Yeah.’ Teddy croaked and launched himself at Harry. Balance restored. Draco watched as Harry clutched Teddy close to his chest and all of a sudden, the whole scene was too much for him. The tightness in his own chest was so strong he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He tried to gasp in great gusts of air, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. The last thing he remembers before he passed out was Harry’s panic-stricken face and a pair of arms reaching out for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco woke into darkness. He panicked for a second before his eyes adjusted and he realised he was in the bedroom in his flat. Had he fallen asleep here? He didn’t remember anything. He became dimly away of a warm weight pressed against his side and he looked down to find Teddy pressed against him. A familiar warmth bubbled in Draco’s chest at the sight. Teddy had never slept in the same bed as he or Harry, but Draco had watched him sleep many times over the years.

Teddy’s presence only made him more confused however. Draco always had Teddy on the weekends, since he lived with Harry, but Draco didn’t remember bringing him home or remember them going to bed. Draco glanced around for any evidence of what might have happened, trying his best not to jostle Teddy.

The clock on Draco’s bedside table read 4:12 am. That explained the darkness. There was a note on the table he hadn’t seen before. With the arm that wasn’t currently stuck under Teddy, he carefully reached out and plucked up the note. His eyesight wasn’t quite good enough to read the note in the dark, but he did his best.

_Draco,_

_I think you had a panic attack. I know how you feel about St Mungo’s and I couldn’t remember the floo address of your healer, so I had your mother’s old healer floo in. He said you probably won’t remember what happened, so I left you this note to explain._

_You passed out at Andromeda’s. I don’t know if it was the shock of seeing me or something, but you freaked out and you weren’t breathing so I called a healer. I’m sorry if me being there stressed you out, I just wanted to catch Teddy before you took him to yours because he forgot his toothbrush again. He should probably have one at each place anyway._

_It was me who brought you back here and changed you. Don’t throw a fit, I didn’t look. I was going to keep Teddy with me tonight to give you time to recover but he refused to leave you. He was really worried so be gentle with him, yeah?_

Draco scoffed. As if he wouldn’t be gentle with Teddy. Of course Harry would think badly of Draco.

_I figured you wouldn’t be very happy if I stayed with you, so I’ve gone home, but I’ll send Hermione to check on you in the morning._

_I_ _hope you feel better soon and I really hope if it happens again you’ll see someone about it. Healer Rogers said the attacks put a lot of strain on the body._

_~~Love,~~ _

_Harry._

Draco balled the note up in a weak fist, mind whirring. He carefully slipped his arm out from underneath Teddy and padded over to the bathroom. In the harsh light he realised Harry had changed him into his favourite pyjamas. His heart twisted nastily but he ignored it. He opened the bathroom cabinet and pulled out the last of his potions, making a mental note to replenish his supply as soon as he could get to the apothecary and buy new ingredients. He’d started brewing his own potions after one time he’d bought pre-made pepper-up and had a bad reaction from the magically modified ingredients.

He checked back in on Teddy as he left the bathroom, but he hadn’t stirred. Draco paused for a minute to watch the steady rise of his back. His hair was still Draco’s shade of blond and Draco took a minute to think about how lucky he was that he had such a kind hearted little boy in his life who loved him blindly.

In the living room, Draco downed the potion. He sneered when he noticed Harry had left his wand on the coffee table. He even remembered that Draco hated sleeping with his wand in the same room as him after a nightmare went very wrong. Why couldn’t he just hate Harry? Why couldn’t Harry have turned into an evil git in the past few years? That man had no consideration for other people.

Draco decided to make himself some coffee, figuring he’d never be able to get back to sleep. He couldn’t believe he’d slipped up in front of Harry after all this time. Hopefully, their lack of communication would mean it would never come up again.

Draco’s coffee tasted like ash. That was really saying something because Draco imported to finest coffee he could legally get his hands on. Thankfully, one of the things Draco hadn’t lost in the divorce was the rights Harry and Hermione had worked so hard to give him after the war. One of those was a license to import potions ingredients from Europe. Draco may have swung the lead a bit by importing coffee beans, but in his defence, he never claimed to be perfect.

The fancy coffee beans did nothing today however. He forced himself to drink it, but he didn’t enjoy it at all and he hoped it wasn’t going to set a sour tone for the day. He spent the early hours reading at the window seat, the only feature of the flat Draco could say he actually loved. Sometime around 7am, which was far too early from Draco’s experience, he heard light footsteps across the wooden floor.

‘Draco?’ A groggy voice called across the living room. Draco slipped his bookmark into the trashy muggle novel he’d been reading as Teddy appeared next to him.

 ‘You ok?’ He asked him, brushing his wild bed hair away from his face.

‘You’re not going to die, are you?’ Teddy asked him, climbing up onto the window seat. There wasn’t quite enough space for the both of them, so Draco pulled his knees up to his chest. Teddy seemed to be over his strange cuddling turn.

‘Of course not. I just wasn’t feeling very well that’s all. I’m fine, you don’t have to worry.’ Draco did his best to reassure him, but it wasn’t really his strong suit.

‘Are you sure? Dad was really worried. He called like, everyone and he was shouting at everyone for not fixing you. Aunt Hermione says Dad is the best when bad things happen because he always knows what to do, but this time he was hopeless like Uncle Ron when Aunt Hermione had Rose.’ Draco huffed a laugh. When Hermione had gone into labour, Ron had quite literally lost his mind with the strangest display of adult accidental magic Draco had ever seen. Thankfully Draco and Harry had been there to make sure everything ran smoothly.

‘Well, I probably gave Harry quite a shock. He’s very good in a crisis, that’s why he’s Head Auror, but it’s different when he’s not at work, he’s not thinking the same way.’ Draco explained more to himself than to Teddy. Teddy wasn’t convinced – he’s particularly switched on for an eleven-year-old.

‘Or he just really loves you.’ He said nonchalantly. He jumped off the window seat and went to the kitchen looking for his breakfast. He’d once told Draco that everything was much more chilled at Draco’s than it was at Harry’s, which surprised Draco because he’d grown up in the manor. He supposed that Harry was a lot more family conscious than Draco – he had always insisted that they at least ate their meals together. Draco had no such regimen.

Draco refused to acknowledge Teddy’s comment, his mind was already well and truly fucked, and he didn’t need anything else to think about. He figured he should probably eat too, so he followed Teddy into the kitchen and decided he’d actually make him breakfast instead of leaving him to the unhealthy cereal again.

They were in the middle of bacon and scrambled egg on toast when there was a knock at the front door. No one every knocked on the door of Draco’s flat, since most of his friends were wizards who could apparate or use the floo. He cast a muffilato on his feet and motioned for Teddy to stay quiet. He peaked through the small peep hole in the door and was surprised to see Hermione standing there.

‘Granger!’ Draco said as he opened the door. As she stepped inside he cast a finite on himself and went back to his breakfast. Hermione dropped a kiss on the top of Teddy’s head as she went to make a cup of tea. Somehow, she’d ended up spending so much time in the flat that it was like a second home to her.

‘Aunt Hermione!’ Teddy was always happy to see Hermione. They’d bonded when he was very small. He wasn’t quite so attached to Ron, but he seemed to be warming up to him a bit more these days.

‘Since when did you start using the front door?’ Draco asked. Hermione rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Since your ex-husband disconnected your floo and set up Ministry strength wards around your current place of residence.’ Hermione said as she sat down next to Teddy. The table was small and cramped and Draco had once thrown a fit when Hermione had tried to cast some less-than-legal expansion charms.

Draco paused with a forkful of egg half way to his mouth.

‘I’m sorry, what?’ He said slowly. The colour drained from Hermione’s face.

‘He didn’t tell you?’ She asked him. Draco shook his head.

‘No, Granger. He somehow neglected to mention that in his terrible excuse for a note. How he made it through Hogwarts with that chicken scratch for handwriting, I’ll never know.’ Hermione’s smirk made Draco want to send her a nasty stinging hex, but he refrained. There were children present.

‘Aunt Hermioneeeee, how’s Hugo?’ Teddy interrupted. Teddy adored Hugo, much to Rose’s annoyance. Draco tried to explain that Teddy couldn’t pick favourites amongst his cousins, but Teddy had simply said “love and like are two very different things”. Whilst that was certainly true, Draco wasn’t sure that was the best attitude to take.

‘Hugo is fine, sweetheart. He’s spending some quality time with Uncle Ron while I come to check on Draco.’ Hermione said kindly. She sometimes talked down to Teddy a little bit, since her own children were much younger, but Teddy never complained.

‘Ted, would you mind getting dressed? I need to talk to your aunt for a bit.’ Draco shot Teddy a pointed look. Teddy wandered off to the spare room he usually stayed in where he had a few clothes.

‘Hermione what the hell?’ Draco hissed as soon as Teddy was out of earshot.

‘Well…I…er. Look, Draco,’ she said, putting on her professional voice. ‘It isn’t my place. I’ve said my piece about you and Harry. If you have an issue you need to talk to him about it. You really scared him yesterday and he went full on Head Auror mode on us all. Yes, he didn’t need to do all that, but that’s just what he’s like.’

            ‘It’s not fair Hermione. He doesn’t get to do this to me. First, he’s parading his dates in front of my face, then he’s putting me to bloody bed and calling the neighbourhood watch!’ He was so confused and frustrated.

‘He what? What date?’ Hermione nearly slopped her tea over the side of her mug. Draco scourgified the few drops that made it over the edge.

‘Yeah. Leggy-Blonde. Saw them at the coffee shop. _MY_ coffee shop. Laughing away on their little date. I mean, he can date whoever the heck he wants but does he have to pick someone who looks like the female version of me? And in my favourite place as well? Talk about a kick in the teeth.’ Draco mumbled the last bit. Hermione looked dumbfounded.

‘Really? He never mentioned he was dating anyone. Although, I’m so busy these days with being the department head and the kids are a total handful and- oh no, what if he thinks he can’t tell us these things anymore?’ Draco stared at her.

‘Really Granger? You’re going to complain about your relationship with Potter to me?’ Hermione looked at him sheepishly.

‘Right. Sorry. Anyway, aside from that, how are you feeling?’ She asked him seriously.

‘I’m fine, you know how it is.’ He would probably feel like shit for a couple of days but his attacks weren’t anywhere near as bad as they used to be. Hermione nodded.

‘Right. I mean, I wouldn’t normally check up on you, I know how you feel about it. Harry can check for magical signatures interfering with the wards though, so I figured better safe than sorry.’ She explained as she drank the last of her tea.

‘I’m fine Hermione. Go back and spend time with the kids.’ Since Hermione became head of the DMLE, her time with her children had been suffering. She gave him a smile loaded with sympathy and pity. It made his stomach churn.

‘You’re a really great guy Draco. I’m sorry things turned out the way they did.’ Draco stood and pulled her into a hug, he even refrained from making a comment on how her bushy brown hair was getting in his eyes and mouth.

Teddy came out of his room in just enough time for a high-five goodbye, he’s still too cool for hugs, and Draco showed Hermione out through the front door since he didn’t have the magical ability to lift the wards Harry had set. Not that he would ever admit that in a million years.

 ∞

During the first month of his agreement with Hermione, Draco searched for apartments and jobs near Paris. Not in Paris, because there’s no way he’d be able to afford to live in Paris, but close enough that he could have an inter-city floo connection or to use muggle transport if necessary.

Draco had had a job working for a potion developer for the past two years, but even before he’d decided to move to France, he’d thought his superiors were making a mug of him. Draco’s potions were available in a lot of the top apothecaries, but he never got any credit for his work. He’d supply the firm with all his new formulae and in return the company provided him with a lab and the most up-to-date equipment. Except, they never ever gave him any credit. That’s why he’d kept his greatest achievement secret.

The jobs he’d been looking for in France all appeared to be much of a muchness. So, he’d decided to arrange a meeting at Gringotts to see if he could take out a business loan and set up on his own in France. He hadn’t told anyone about his plan, because he would be far too embarrassed if he was refused.

That Friday he showed up early to Andromeda’s so that he could ask Harry if Teddy could stay with him for the weekend too. Draco really needed to get his finances in order before his Gringotts meeting and he didn’t want Teddy to have to hang around while Draco was sifting through paperwork.

He was just finishing is second cup of tea with his aunt, who was telling him a lot about the various plants she was learning to grow in the garden, when Harry arrived. Draco was actually disappointed as Andromeda had grown up in the Black family and had some very interesting knowledge on some of the rare plants that were no longer available in England.

‘And then my other dad said-’ Teddy stopped talking as soon as he saw Draco sitting with Andromeda.

‘Good evening Edward,’ Andromeda said with a sly smile. Draco simply watched on confused. Teddy blushed profusely and hid behind Harry.

‘Oh, Draco. I didn’t expect you to still be here.’ Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

‘Yes. I needed to ask you if you’d watch Ted this weekend. I have business to attend to.’ Draco was surprised by how formal he sounded. It reminded him of his father, and not in a nice way.

‘But you can’t be busy! Dad has a date with the nice lady with the books!’ Teddy burst out.

‘Edward, I think your father and Draco need to talk without us eavesdropping, don’t you?’ Andromeda led Teddy through to the kitchen.

‘Draco I-’ Harry started, but Draco had heard enough.

‘Don’t Harry. You don’t owe me an explanation. You’re entitled to date whoever you want to. If you can’t take Teddy I’ll see if Luna will. It’s not a problem.’ Ugh. Draco hated how cold he sounded.

‘No, Draco, it’s not what you thi-’

‘I don’t think anything,’ he said abruptly. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I need to find some childcare.’ With that, Draco strode swiftly out of the room, leaving Harry standing there with his mouth working like a fish. Draco knew he wasn’t justified in being so angry, but he couldn’t help himself. The sooner he got away from the stupid idiot the better.

Thankfully, Luna was happy to have Teddy for a couple of days and Teddy was more than happy to have a sleepover. It gave Draco the time he needed to get his affairs in order. Unfortunately for him, the day of his bank meeting started badly.

He was in his favourite coffee shop near Mayfair and for once he had decided to read the Prophet, to make sure he was up-to-date with the wizard stock market. It wasn’t strictly relevant to him, but Goblins were notorious for undermining wizards’ intelligence with their quips. Draco was no fool, his father had taught him well when it came to negotiations.

Before he made it to the stocks, the front-page headline caught his eye.

**_Saviour of the Wizarding World in Whirlwind Romance with Mystery Muggle_ **

Draco’s heart dropped. There were photographs of Harry and Leggy-Blonde walking through London with coffee cups in hand. In one Harry was laughing, his smile bright and his cheeks flushed. In another, Leggy-Blonde was gripping his elbow tightly and pointing at something off in the distance that was out of shot.

He didn’t read the words, he could already feel his bloody boiling. He did however, flick through to see how long the article was. Harry had landed himself a three-page spread. Or at least, Draco thought he had. As it turned out, the final page was a delight all on its own.

**_Where is Draco Malfoy now?_ **

Now that caught Draco’s attention. 

_Harry Potter was seen out with a mystery woman yesterday in London’s Soho. It seems that our hero has finally moved on from his marriage with ex Death Eater, Draco Malfoy._

_It comes as no surprise to us at the Prophet that the Saviour has turned to pastures greener. In fact, we were surprised the unconventional marriage lasted as long as it had at all._

_But, the real question is, where is Draco Malfoy now? We all know that following the war, our favourite Death Eater was a touch camera shy, but Draco Malfoy has taken incognito to a whole new level._

_Our trainee reporters managed to catch Mr Malfoy in Knockturn Alley last week. Surprise, surprise. You know what they say about bad habits. What is Mr Malfoy up to? Is he returning to his roots and engaging once again in the Dark Arts? It certainly seems so. Malfoy was spotted buying an unusual mix of potions ingredients, some of which we know as ingredients of the deadly potion, Draft of the Living Death. Perhaps Mr Malfoy is more jealous of his ex-husband than he’s willing to let on._

_We’re still waiting for an official statement from either party on the divorce so please, if either of you are reading this, we’re more than happy to schedule an…_

Draco had heard enough. There were pictures all over the page of him, looking suspicious as all hell. Of course, they managed to catch him on the one day he forgot to use either Polyjuice or a disillusionment charm.

He was furious. Apparently, the agreement that the Prophet wouldn’t report on Draco dissolved along with his marriage. His head fell into his hands as he realised that the goblins would absolutely have heard about this and Draco was absolutely not getting his loan.

He trudged his way to Gringotts anyway. His father told him that the only things goblins hate more than wizards, it’s fear. As he reached the doors of the lopsided old building, he paused, straightened his spine, held his head high, and stepped inside.

∞

Draco Malfoy officially has no dignity left. His meeting was absolutely abysmal. “Thank you, Mr Malfoy, you’ll be hearing from us soon.” Bullshit. In all his years with dealing with Gringotts, he’d never come away without a deal. His father would be completely and utterly ashamed of him.

As soon as he was back at his flat he took of his expensive robes and changed into the joggers Harry had bought him. It always made him laugh at how much he had protested when Harry had bought him them. He was sure he’d called them an insult to fashion and the trousers of peasants. Oh, to look at him now.

Really, he should’ve gone back to work, but he didn’t feel like it and it wasn’t as if they could fire him. Without his potions genius, the business would’ve folded a long time ago. He was surprised to get a floo call from the Ministry though.

‘Minister.’ Draco greeted formerly whilst trying to disguise his current attire.

‘Good afternoon Mr Malfoy, I do apologise for interrupting your afternoon.’ Kingsley had been one of the few people to support Draco and Harry’s relationship when the first came out and Draco would be eternally grateful.

‘Not at all, Minister, I have the afternoon off after a big meeting.’ It wasn’t strictly true, but it wasn’t quite lying either. ‘How can I help you?’

‘Well, it’s rather urgent actually, which is why I’m making this call myself. My auror department has been investigating a series of unfortunate cases of severed magical cores. We’ve had every specialist at St Mungo’s on the case, and no one can seem to figure out what’s causing it. I was wondering if we would be able to bring in your potions expertise to help solve the case.’ Draco was incredibly surprised.

‘You want my help sir? Are you sure about that?’ Kingsley sighed over the floo, dropping the professionalism for a minute.

‘Draco, I’m your friend here. I’m asking you because you’re the most skilled potioneer I know. You also come highly recommended by people I happen to trust with my life. You don’t have to take the opportunity, and I will not blame you if you choose to turn me down, but I’m offering the contract to you first and foremost.’ Draco was gobsmacked. Someone at the Ministry recommended him? He could hardly believe it. Who would stick their neck out for him? Harry certainly wouldn’t. Not any more at least. Was there someone in the auror department he didn’t know he knows?

‘Maybe we can meet to discuss it? I’m open to helping but I am currently employed, and I need to know more before I can commit to anything.’

‘Of course, I’m very busy but if you could see me first thing in the morning I don’t mind coming into the office early, it really is an emergency.’ Draco couldn’t turn this down, not if the minister was willing to go in early just to see Draco. Whatever it was, it must be incredibly serious.

Draco supposed this might be quite good timing for him. He could leave his current employment, take on the Ministry contract, and he’d be free to leave for France at the end. Maybe it was a sign he was doing the right thing.

That night he didn’t sleep well at all. He woke up every hour with nightmares of his last night with Harry and the look on Teddy’s face when he told him he was moving away. Thankfully the night before he’d had time to brew a fresh batch of potions and they helped somewhat. Draco went to the Ministry with tired eyes and a buzzing in his ears from lack of sleep. He was hardly keeping his eyes open as he made his way up to Kingsley’s office. He’d only been there once before just after his trial when Kingsley promised he would be exonerated.

He was still very nervous to be back. He was getting horrible stares from the people around the Ministry at the early hour. There was a surprising amount of people there considering the working day hadn’t officially started yet. Clearly the Ministry was still paying overtime.

Kingsley’s secretary wasn’t even in yet when Draco arrived, so he knocked directly on Kingsley’s door.

‘Come in.’ He heard faintly through the thick wood and he pushed the door open. He probably should’ve seen it coming but he’d been so engrossed in his planning for France, he hadn’t even given it a second thought.

‘Minister.’ Draco greeted cordially, ignoring the elephant in the room.

‘Draco.’ Kingsley greeted him with a sheepish smile. Draco took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm him. His stomach was churning, and he was almost certain he was going to throw up his morning potion.

‘Potter.’ He said shakily, nodding briefly but not looking anywhere near his eyes. He couldn’t.

‘Malfoy.’ Harry said stiffly.

Great. Bloody, fucking, great.


	3. Chapter 3

It didn’t appear to be the right time to say that Draco wasn’t in fact a Malfoy. When they’d married, Draco had actually taken Harry’s name. It surprised a lot of people; the papers had been running bets on whether they’d become Potter-Malfoys or Malfoy-Potters, but Draco was firm. He no longer had a reason to associate with the Malfoy family. He had no family left and no land to claim – he figured his marriage would mark the end of the family line and the beginning of a new life. Anyway, Draco had never found the time or the inclination to change his name back after the divorce. He didn’t particularly enjoy being a Potter, but since no one had ever bothered referring to him as one it hardly made any difference anyway. Only the legal documents would show any different.

‘I was not aware Mr Potter would be joining us, Minister.’ Draco said coldly. Any excuse not to have to look at the git’s stupid face.

‘Ah, yes. I do apologise for springing that on you. Head Auror Potter will of course be handling a case as sensitive as this. You’ll understand I’m sure.’ Of course. Draco was stupid, at the very least naïve, to think that he could do this without seeing Harry. Personal issues aside, Harry was excellent at his job and there’s no way he wouldn’t be involved in a case which the Minister was also dealing with personally. Draco could only hope that he’d be spending time in a lab and far away from Harry.

‘Of course.’ Draco said as he took the seat next to Harry. He could feel his eyes burning through the side of his head, but he refused to look. He regretted choosing to wear his muggle suit today. He figured it would be good to make one of his rare appearances at the Ministry an opportunity to show how much he had changed, and muggle fashion was an excellent way to do that. Harry, however, had always loved seeing Draco in this style of suit. Muggle formalwear was much more tight-fitting and tailored than its wizarding counterpart. Draco fought to keep the heat away from his cheeks and his attention on the Minister.

‘Ok, to business.’ Kingsley pulled two files out from his desk drawer and passed a copy to each of them.’ Draco took the file with shaky fingers and began skimming the papers inside. Harry didn’t even take his from the edge of the desk. He’d better not be expecting Draco to fill him in just because he’s too lazy to read the damn file.

‘We’ve had a series of cases in the past week of witches and wizards turning up with the magical core either almost completely drained or severed in some way. There appear to be no connections between any of the patients, none of them had been to any of the same places in the previous twenty-four hours. Blood tests haven’t revealed any commonalities and thus far they’ve all been put in a magically induced coma in the hopes that their magic will restore itself naturally.’

‘Forgive me, Minister, but it doesn’t sound like you have many leads here.’ Draco said. None of the information in the file seemed to make any sense.

‘Actually,’ Harry cut in, ‘my colleagues came across an abandoned potions lab yesterday which they think may be connected in some way. I’m pushing to get the paperwork through quickly so that we can scope the place out.’

‘Forget the paperwork, anything to do with this case has authorisation directly from me. We’ll deal with everything else later.’ Now this was a whole other ball game.

‘Excuse me,’ Draco knew he’d have to tread carefully here, but there was something off about this. ‘Is there something else I should know? I understand that this case is urgent but foregoing paperwork is another kind of urgency.’ Ever since the war the Ministry had become increasingly tight with its paperwork in an attempt to clamp down on the misuse of resources and corruption.

Kingsley looked wearily at Harry and Draco sneaked a glance in his direction. He looked far better than Draco did, a little tanned in fact. Probably been on a fancy getaway with Leggy-Blonde. Harry was tense, very tense actually. It wouldn’t be obvious to many people, but Draco knew. The small twitch in his sharp jawline, the way he held himself just a little straighter than was natural to him, his nervous habit of attempting to smooth his hair down. As if anything could tame the bird’s nest.

‘We have reason to believe,’ Kingsley said carefully, ‘that this has something to do with neo-Death Eater activity.’ And there was the other shoe. Apparently, it dropped right onto Draco’s chest and knocked all the air out of his lungs. Every muscle in his body tensed.

‘I see.’ Draco said, trying his utmost to keep his tone neutral. ‘What exactly has led you to that conclusion.’

‘Draco-’ He could see Harry turn towards him in his peripheral vision, but he didn’t dare look. He couldn’t handle Harry’s sympathy face, it would kill him slowly from the inside.

‘I’ve got this Harry.’ Kingsley rested his elbows on his desk and paused as though choosing his words carefully. ‘We’ve been keeping tabs on anyone with connections to the Death Eaters. In recent months, Albert Runcorn has been spotted numerous times with Mafalda Hopkirk.’ Draco’s brows furrowed.

‘Neither of those people were Death Eaters.’ The _I would know_ went unsaid.

‘I realise that; however, both were employed under the Death Eater occupation of the Ministry, and Mafalda was a confirmed informant. Unfortunately, the Ministry didn’t have the resources to send either of them to trial at the time, and they were allowed to go on probation.’ Draco heaved a sigh. The injustice of it all.

‘And now you think that since it’s been so long since the war, they think they’ll be under less scrutiny.’ Draco suggested.

‘Exactly.’ Kingsley was watching him carefully, waiting for an outburst. Draco maintained his calm again.

‘And can I assume,’ he began slowly, ‘that my involvement in this case can be taken as reassurance that I’m not a suspect?’ He hated how much he sounded like his father, but he was not about to play games.

‘Woah Draco! You can’t possibly think that-’

‘Don’t,’ Draco said icily, ‘presume to tell me what I can and cannot think.’ He turned his body towards Harry and shot him the fiercest glare he could muster. Harry visibly shrunk into his seat and Draco felt a twisted sense of pride that he still had some kind of power over him after all this time.

‘I promise you, that the Ministry is more than aware of your allegiances Malfoy, and anyone who wants to question them will answer to me personally.’

‘I appreciate that.’ Draco knew when to pick his fights, and he certainly wouldn’t kick up a fuss when given support from the Minister for Magic on a silver platter.

‘I want to offer you a full-time consultation contract on the case. We’re pouring as many resources as we can spare into this and we need it resolved as quickly as possible. I’m willing to speak to your current employer directly and come to an arrangement if needs be.’

‘Ok, but what exactly do you need me to do here?’

‘Well, that’s what Harry is here for. He’s much more familiar with the case than I am.’ Draco glanced at Harry, who was suddenly engrossed in the file he refused to pick up before. Draco could tell he wasn’t actually reading it.

‘If you agree to help I’ll send you over the analysis from St Mungo’s. They tested for traces of poisons and nothing showed up, but we’re not convinced they haven’t used something untraceable. They’re not under any spells and they’re not responding to treatment. We really just need someone who’s got knowledge of rare potions and ingredients who can do more in-depth analysis. It would also be useful to get you to assess any facilities we come across, like the warehouse. Aurors have potions experience but nowhere near your level of expertise.’ Harry shut himself up when he realised he was babbling. Once upon a time, Draco had found Harry’s babbling unbelievably cute, he always did it when he was nervous. Now though, it infuriated him. The coward couldn’t even be professional with him in front of the Minister.

‘I see. Well, I’ll speak to my employer and let you know then.’ Draco wanted to get out of the room as quickly as possible. The tension was stifling.

‘Absolutely. Please do let me know as soon as possible. I’m sure for now you have much to do. I hope to see you soon Mr Malfoy.’ Kingsley stood and shook Draco’s hand.

‘Potter.’ Draco nodded vaguely in Harry’s direction and winced slightly when he got a _Malfoy_ in return. If only he knew.

Draco had nearly made his way to the lifts when a firm hand clamped down on his shoulder. He wheeled around, his wand out ready to defend himself, only to find Harry standing entirely too close.

‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Draco spit, his wand digging into Harry’s neck.

‘Me? You’re the only who has me at wandpoint!’ Harry shot back equally as fiercely.

‘You should know better than to sneak up on me.’ He said lowly. He knew it was a low blow, but he really wasn’t in the mood for this.

‘You’re right, I’m sorry.’ Harry took a step back and Draco lowered his wand. The Ministry was beginning to fill with people and they didn’t have the privacy Harry apparently wanted. He motioned Draco into an empty conference room and Draco didn’t have the energy to argue.

‘What do you want, Potter?’ Draco refused to sit down, he wouldn’t be saying long. He took the opportunity to take in Harry’s appearance more closely. It looked like for once he’d actually attempted to tame his wild black hair, not that it worked very well. He had a bit of five o’clock shadow which, considering it was just gone nine in the morning, meant he hadn’t had time to shave. It looked surprisingly good on him, Draco reluctantly admitted. His Head Auror Robes were horrendously ruffled, but he looked even more muscular than he had the last time Draco had seen him, which was just so unfair. He made Draco look like a spindly little waif.

‘I just want to know that we can get on if you take on this contract.’ Harry said earnestly.

‘I, unlike you, can be professional.’ Harry’s fists clenched.

‘For the love of god Malfoy, why do you have to be so defensive all the time. I’ve left you alone, I’ve made an effort to make sure I give you space, I’ve never once got in the way of you spending time with Teddy.’

‘Oh, so you mean after you dumped me on my sorry arse you were kind enough to let me live my own damn life? How charming of you Potter, let me know if you need me to write you a recommendation for your next marriage.’ Draco was furious. As if he should thank him for letting him be his own person.

‘That’s not what I meant! Why do you always have to twist my words? And I was NOT the one that left!’ Harry never was good at controlling his temper, so Draco cast an extra silencing charm around the conference room. They had in-built charms for the purpose, but Harry was known for defying the impossible.

‘I’m not twisting your words, Harry.’ Draco said calmly. ‘I’m just pointing out that in an amicable divorce you should do all those things. If you have a problem with that then we can re-negotiate.’ He watched as Harry’s anger turned cold.

‘I see. So our relationship is reduced to a business negotiation. I knew you’d moved on, but this really is something else. I’ll make sure you don’t have to see me around the department then.’ Draco was speechless. How was it that every time he attempted to be near Harry, things descended into absolute chaos? It was really bloody tiring.

‘Whatever. I need to go.’ Draco’s voice wavered, and he prayed Harry didn’t think he was about to start crying. One of his morning potions hadn’t been ready when he left, and he was way overdue his dose.

‘Are you ok? You don’t look so good. You’re not going to have another one of those attack thingies are you?’ And there he goes again, pretending to be concerned after he’d just thrown the weight of their split in his face.

‘Piss off Potter. Don’t you dare pretend like you care.’ Draco stormed out of the conference room and disapparated. Forget the bloody floo, he didn’t care about social decorum around that waste of space.

∞

In the second month of Draco’s agreement with Hermione, Draco quit his job. His bosses were furious, they even tried to blackmail him into staying, but Draco held his ground and walked out of there with his head held high.

The following week, he started his new job at the ministry. Harry had given him his own lab in the bowels of the Ministry. Draco would’ve thought that Harry was being generous in giving him the most state-of-the-art lab money could buy, but he knew there was no coincidence that his lab was as far away from Harry’s office as physically possible.

He spent the first week getting accustomed to the history of the case and visiting the patients in St Mungo’s. Even in the time that had passed between Kingsley’s offer and Draco’s acceptance, there had been no change in the patients’ status. The healers were having to replace their stasis charms every couple of hours and time was running out.

At the beginning of his second week on the case, he was preparing blood samples to analyse them for rare compounds when he got a surprise visit.

‘Draco darling!’ Pansy exclaimed as she walked brazenly into his lab. Draco was so shocked he nearly dropped the vial of blood he was extracting from.

‘Pansy!’ He said, raising his eyebrows, ‘what on earth are you doing here? More to the point, how did you get in? This is off limits to the general public.’ Pansy rolled her eyes and kissed him on both cheeks. He hoped that was witch’s lipstick and he wouldn’t have bright red-stained lip marks on his cheeks.

‘Bitch please, one puppy-eyed look Potter’s way and he was leading me straight to you.’ She said with a smirk.

‘You spoke with Potter?’ Draco’s eyebrows were quickly disappearing into his hairline.

‘Why, haven’t you?’ She shot him a confused look.

‘Of course I haven’t,’ Draco sniffed. ‘I’ve seen hide nor hair of him since I started. He even got Weasley and Macmillan to take me to that hideous warehouse.’

‘Oh!’ Pansy seemed astounded. ‘That’s not the impression he gave me. He spent a good ten minutes talking about how well you were fitting into the department and how fantastic your work is.’ Draco took in her appearance. Her black hair was cropped into a harsh bob cut and despite living in Dubai for the past ten years, she was as deathly pale as she had always been. Pansy’s face wasn’t one that hid her emotions well which meant for a Slytherin she was quite terrible at lying.

‘He did?’ Draco couldn’t image why Harry would do that. Draco had barely scratched the surface with this case. In fact, he was waiting for Kingsley himself to come down and tell him to get his shit together. Maybe not quite in those words.

‘Yes! I swear that man is still head over heels for you.’ Draco pretended he hadn’t heard and it worked out well because Pansy wasn’t done. ‘Anyway, what the _hell_ is this I hear about you moving to France?’ Draco wasn’t too proud to admit that Pansy scared him

‘Yes. I have an apartment ready for me whenever I’m done with this case.’ He straightened his tie unnecessarily. Pansy just stared at him open-mouthed. ‘What?’ He said, a little too defensively.

‘You’re serious about it? Draco, when I said do something different I meant buy a new flat or get yourself out on a date, I didn’t mean run away.’ Pansy’s tone shifted to something a lot softer, which was so much worse than angry.

‘I’m not running away, Pans. I need space to get my head together and figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. Maybe I don’t want to date anymore, maybe I don’t want a family. I don’t know any of that because I threw myself head first into a marriage which was doomed since before it even started.’ Even as he said it he was done explaining himself. It was his decision to make.

‘You have work over there?’ She asked him. She wandered over to the far corner and started fiddling with one of the microscopes. Magic worked really well for a lot of Draco’s work but sometimes nothing could beat the human eye.

‘I had planned on starting my own business, but my loan application was denied after that awful newspaper spread on Harry and his new girlfriend.’ Draco said bitterly. He’d never brought it up with Harry, but he hadn’t quite forgiven him for it. If Draco was any wiser than he was, he’d be able to admit that it wasn’t Harry’s fault. He wasn’t.

‘Oh yeah. Blaise told me about that, one of his publishing clients told him. Word has it Potter was absolutely furious and demanded a retraction, but they wouldn’t do a thing about it. I think he would’ve taken them to court if Blaise hadn’t told him you’d hate the extra exposure.’

‘Why is it that everyone else hears about this stuff before I do?’ Draco moaned. Slumping down on his stool. Pansy shrugged.

‘Anyway, I just came to see if the rumours about you leaving were true. I want you to know that I don’t agree with it but seeing as I’m not your mother, I won’t argue with you about it anymore.’

‘Thank you Pans. It would be nice if I could get some support for once.’ He made a point to subtly remind her of the backlash he received both during and after his divorce. He turned back to his bloods and began casting diagnostic spells. He knew Pansy was here for something more than that, but she was never all that good at confrontation.

‘Potter wanted me to invite you to his birthday next week.’ Pansy said quietly after a few minutes of peaceful silence. Draco’s last scan of this particular sample ricochet off the workbench as his concentration slipped. He put his wand down to avoid destroying his remaining samples by accident.

‘He what?’ He swivelled round on his chair to find Pansy propped up against the metal table behind him, staring at him intently.

‘He wants to invite you to his birthday. He said Teddy had been pestering him about it for weeks. He even offered me an invitation if it meant you’d come.’

‘He invited you. To our house. His house. His.’ Draco corrected himself, but it was too late. Pansy gave him one of her most piercing looks and Draco felt like she was looking at his soul.

‘Yes, he did. I think you should go. I have some time off from work so if you want to I’ll stay, and we can go together. Luna will be there too, and Granger. You won’t be alone.’

‘I’ll think about it but right now I really need to analyse these samples. I think I might be on to something here.’ He said as one of his samples started giving him some bizarre readings. Pansy huffed at being turfed out of his lab.

‘Ugh. Fiiiiine. You’re such a bore these days Draco. You’re all work, work, work.’

‘If you want to talk about work, go listen to some Rihanna.’ He said absently as he noted down his findings. He really needed to show this to Harry as soon as possible.

‘ _You_ know Rihanna?’ He grinned in vaguely the right direction.

‘Pansy please,’ he imitated her exaggerated tone, ‘I’m gay, I’m not dead.’ She cackled her way out of his lab and he was finally able to get back to his work in peace, his mind whirring with the implications of Harry wanting him at his birthday. It would be the first time he’d ever been back to his marital home and he wasn’t sure he would ever be quite ready for that.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco was never letting Pansy talk him into anything ever again. The minute he apparated them to the doorstep of his former home, he felt his world tilt on its axis. He lifted a hand to knock on the door and froze, it felt totally wrong to be knocking on his own front door. In the end, he hesitated so long Pansy knocked for him. Luckily for Draco, it was Luna who answered the door. Draco wondered whether that was a strategic move by Potter but then the thought Potter probably wasn’t quite that switched on.

‘Hello lovelies! Perfect weather for tinglinger fishing huh?’ Draco simply nodded and hugged her. He knew better than to question Luna by now.

‘Hello Luna. You look well.’ He greeted her politely. She flashed him a dazzling smile and for once he was reminded of how beautiful she could be. Not that he’d ever really forgotten, but it wasn’t like he ever looked her way.

‘Thank you, Draco. You look wonderfully handsome as always. Pansy my dear, let me take your jacket.’ And off the pair of them went, leaving Draco standing in the hallway. It wasn’t like he needed to be shown the way. He let himself reacquaint himself with his surroundings. The hallway remained warm and open as he remembered. They’d lined the hall with hard wood when the kids were small so that they wouldn’t traipse mud through the house when they’d been playing outside. The coat rack Harry had fixed to the wall lopsidedly was filled with the family’s jackets; it was midsummer so there were no coats this time. Draco had thrown a fit when he’d realised Harry hadn’t put it up straight, but Harry claimed it added charm.

They’d agreed to decorate the house in warm shades throughout. Draco had surprised Harry with this because Harry had assumed he’d want an ultra-modern house full of chrome. Years living in the dark and cold manor had meant Draco wanted the exact opposite. Now that he was back for the first time in three years, he marvelled at the way the bright summer sunshine shone through the hallway. It bounced off the mirror Draco had strategically placed opposite the coats and filled the hall with a warm glow which accentuated the pale-yellow walls. He’d always loved the warmth of this house, something about it always evoked an inner peace he could never achieve anywhere else.

It wasn’t the same now though. He supposed much of that feeling must’ve come from knowing Harry was here waiting for him. The house hadn’t been enveloped in magic long enough to be quite as sentient as the manor or the Black estate, but Draco thought he could feel a little something from the wards, as if they were happy to see him again. After all, he helped create them.

He was pulled from his reverie when he noticed he had an audience. Harry stood leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, his arms crossed firmly over his chest. He was wearing Draco’s favourite shirt of his; the jade green button down that was made of such fine cotton it felt like silk. It was rolled up to his elbows as Draco had always told him to wear it. He’d definitely filled out, as Draco had suspected when he’d seen him at the Ministry, and now the sleeves were pulled taut across his biceps.

‘Strange feeling huh.’ His voice came out gravelly and Draco wondered how long he’d been stood there watching him.

‘Definitely.’ Draco replied, his voice strained. They looked at each other for a long time, Draco searching Harry’s green eyes as if looking for something lost. He still had that stubble he’d had during their meeting with Kingsley and Draco had to admit that he much preferred that to when he was clean shaven. Draco thought Harry had over-groomed himself during their relationship, thinking Draco expected that of him. He didn’t, he just wanted Harry to be himself.

‘Come through.’ Harry said, his voice still slightly choked. Draco followed him numbly into their old kitchen. He sucked in a deep breath as a barrage of old memories hit him. Late nights fighting over who said what to whom, mid-morning brunches when the fed each other ridiculously sickly pastries and stayed in their pyjamas all day, family dinners and Christmases. It all seemed like a lifetime ago now, although it had only been three years. Harry’s hand on the small of Draco’s back did nothing to ease his apprehension as he stepped out the French doors and into the garden. Draco couldn’t contain his gasp when he saw it.

The garden was as beautiful as the day he’d left it. There was a wash of the most vibrant colours; the deep oranges of black-eyed Susans against the bright fuchsia of Dahlias phasing into pale pink ribbons of roses. Draco had always taken great pride in his garden; the gardens of the manor were his favourite places to be as a child and he’d aimed to recreate them here. Coupled with his love of potions and therefore potions ingredients, he’d found himself to be quite a proficient gardener.

They’d agreed that they’d grow Narcissus and Lily in their garden, as an ode to their mothers, without whom their garden would never exist. Except it turned out that Draco was allergic to lilies, so they’d agreed to put in Pineapple Lilies, a native South African flower instead, as the variety was just different enough from English lilies to not bother Draco. Thankfully, with the use of weather charms, they could grow any plant they wanted.

‘Harry…’ Draco’s eyes pricked with hot tears as he tried to force his breathing to remain steady. His chest burned with the effort, but he refused to make a scene at Harry’s birthday.

‘The garden was always so beautiful,’ Harry said, his voice still thick. His thumb grazed Draco’s lower back gently and it felt as though it was burning through the blue shirt he’d chosen that morning. ‘I couldn’t let it go to waste. It’s still one of my favourite parts of the house. It has you written all over it,’ he said with a dry laugh. Draco thought he must be able to feel his ragged breaths with his hand positioned where it was, but Draco refused to look at him and admit defeat. Harry wasn’t wrong though; the garden was done up with banners and fairy lights which only brought out the vibrancy of the flowers. Someone had scattered beanbags across the lawn and the kids were having a whale of the time trying to jump between them.

‘Happy Birthday, Harry.’ Draco whispered, his throat squeezing painfully. He strode off as confidently as he could and made a beeline for Hermione, who was standing talking to Neville right at the far end of the garden. _Screw it all,_ he thought. _Why did I have to listen to Pansy?_

‘Hi Draco,’ Hermione said as he approached. He smiled at her weakly and blinked away the tears that had gathered.

‘Hermione, Neville.’

‘I’m surprised you came Draco.’ Neville said. They weren’t exactly friends, but they’d learned to be civil over the years.

‘Yeah, I’m not sure it was the right thing to do. Coming back here…’ He trailed off, not having the words to say. ‘Anyway,’ he said as he straightened his posture, ‘it’s not about me, it’s about Harry.’

‘He really put a lot of effort into this. I’ve never seen him plan like this before, you know how he feels about birthdays and parties.’ Draco was surprised. Harry hated celebrating his birthday, he hated big groups of people and more than anything else, he hated unnecessary attention.

‘I’ll admit I was quite surprised myself.’ Draco agreed. ‘Even more so that he’d invite Pansy because he thought it would get me here.’

‘Did it?’ Neville asked him curiously.

‘Yeah, would you have come otherwise?’ They both seemed keen to know and if Draco was honest, he’d had enough of his friends prying in his and Harry’s affairs. They were done, there was nothing more left to be said.

‘Of course not.’ He lied. ‘As if I would ever come back here voluntarily.’ He sauntered off to get a drink, it was going to be a long evening. He found Pansy picking up an overly full glass of wine and he prayed this wouldn’t end with her making a fool of herself as she usually did when she drank too much.

‘She’s not here.’ Pansy whispered in his ear.

‘Who?’

‘That woman you told me about. The female you.’ Draco’s breath caught.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive.’

∞

By the time the sun was setting, Draco was exhausted. He found himself sitting on the swing seat at the western end of the garden. He’d chosen to put it here because it meant he could see Harry in the kitchen, Teddy playing in the sand pit they’d built him when he was small, and he’d still have a perfect view of the flowerbeds.

To Harry’s credit, the party had been a raging success. Pansy had brought him a cake from a fancy French patisserie on her way from Dubai. Which quite frankly was the best cake Draco had ever eaten, possibly even better than his wedding cake. Ok no, nothing was better than that. Teddy was fast asleep tucked up next to Draco. His arm was going a bit numb from supporting the boy’s head and neck, but it was worth it if it meant Teddy wouldn’t be sore when he woke up. Rose and Hugo had worn him out terribly.

Teddy’s hair had again turned platinum blond the second he’d seen Draco at the party, which didn’t seem to surprise anyone except Draco. It had stayed the same shade throughout the day and as Draco looked down at his messy mop of hair, for a split second it looked as though Teddy really could’ve been Harry and Draco’s son. Something iron-like clamped down over his heart when he thought that, and he immediately shoved the idea out of his mind and thought of something else.

‘Hey, we should be heading off Harry.’ He heard Hermione saying, Hugo asleep in her arms.

‘Of course,’ Harry said politely. ‘The kids are well and truly exhausted huh?’ He said, dropping a kiss on Hugo’s head and hugging Hermione goodbye.

‘Yeah, they get a bit excited when they’ve got Teddy to play with. Different company and all,’ she said as she adjusted her grip on Hugo. ‘It was a really beautiful party. You did well on this one.’ She shot a subtle look Draco’s way and he pretended to be watching Teddy sleeping.

‘I think this is the best birthday party I’ve ever thrown.’ Harry said with a beautiful grin. He showed Ron and Hermione to the floo, as if they didn’t know where it was already, and disappeared out of view. Draco knew he should be heading off soon, but he didn’t really want to disturb Teddy too much.

‘And here I thought he was too cool for hugs.’ Harry said with an amused smirk as he reappeared and crossed the garden and handed Draco some water. He might’ve got a bit too tipsy earlier and under the hot summer sun Harry had started supplying him with water sometime after dinner.

‘Yeah, well, apparently I’m so cool I’m still huggable.’ Draco said smugly. Harry sat down on the swing seat next to them and Draco was glad that Teddy could act as a physical buffer. Ok, he was a terrible parent for thinking that.

‘He should probably go to bed now, Harry.’ Luna said in passing. She was walking around the garden and picking up the odd discarded cup.

‘Yeah, you’re right. Do you want to take him?’ Harry turned to Draco. ‘I’m stealing your weekend with him after all.’ Draco nodded but didn’t reply. Harry lifted Teddy off Draco’s arm and he wiggled his fingers to get the blood flowing more quickly. Teddy stirred a little at the movement and Draco debated on waking him up to walk him upstairs. He thought better of it, so he cast a featherweight charm and lifted Teddy up to take him to bed.

He made it upstairs fairly easily but when he set Teddy down on his bed, the young boy stirred just enough to be aware of what was happening.

‘Daddy…?’ He murmured. Draco’s heart sank just a little bit.

‘No, sweetheart. It’s Draco, Dad’s downstairs.’ He said gently. Of course he wanted Harry.

‘Nevermind.’ Teddy said sleepily as he helped Draco get him into his pyjamas. ‘I’m glad you came. Dad said you weren’t coming.’ He said as he slid under the covers. Draco frowned.

‘Did he?’ Why would Harry tell Teddy he wasn’t coming when he only invited Draco on Teddy’s behalf?

‘Yeah. But you came anyway. Love you.’ He reached out for a hug, but his eyes were already closing again.

‘Love you too Ted.’ He hugged him gently and ran a hand through his messy blond hair before leaving and closing the door behind him.

When he got back downstairs, he saw Pansy disappearing through the floo. She managed to catch his eye just before she disappeared, and he could’ve sworn she was smirking.

He found Harry in the kitchen washing up glasses.

‘So, I just had an interesting conversation with Ted.’ He said as he leant against the bench.

‘Oh?’ Harry said without taking his eyes away from the dishes. It was so domestic Draco was thrown back five years to a different time.

‘He was under the impression I wasn’t coming today. Now, why would he think that when I was invited on his behalf?’ Draco tried not to look too smug, but his heart was racing, and he allowed himself to finally have a little bit of hope for something he once lost.

Harry didn’t say anything.

‘Harry, if you wanted me here, you could’ve just said so.’ Draco said gently. Harry looked at him with wide green eyes and Draco’s chest tightened. It was doing that a lot these days.

‘You would’ve come?’ Harry asked hopefully. Draco thought about it.

‘No, probably not.’ He admitted.

‘Exactly.’ Harry mumbled. Draco frowned at him. His posture was defeatist; shoulders slumped, elbows rested on the edges of the sink. His hair was wild after spending the afternoon stood in the summer breeze and it took Draco a lot of self-control not to run his hands through it. Harry’s hair was a disaster, but few people had any idea how soft it really was. Draco supposed looks could be deceiving. He just wished he could same for himself. Cold on the outside, even colder on the inside.

‘It might’ve made a difference though. If there’s something you want to say to me, you should just say it. I don’t appreciate you using Teddy as a bargaining tool.’ It sounded meaner than Draco really meant it to, but it was true. Related by blood or not, Teddy was their son and he deserved better than to be a pawn in their pathetic attempt at civility.

‘I didn’t mean to. I just…missed you I guess. My favourite birthdays were the ones when I could wake up and have breakfast with you and Teddy and spend the whole day with you, just being a family. You know, feeling like a part of something.’ Harry’s eyes were trained on the floor as he spoke, and Draco was grateful because he wasn’t sure he could have this conversation otherwise. He felt guilt pull at him for taking that away from him, but what was he supposed to say? Harry had never come after him. In fact, Harry had purposefully blocked him out.

‘I get it Harry, I really do. It’s just…I can’t do this. I know we have Ted, and he means a lot to me, but we’re done Harry. We need to move on.’ He hated saying it, but it was true. They couldn’t tiptoe around each other forever.

‘Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like if we’d worked out.’ Harry asked him, lifting his head to look at him. There were slight crinkles beginning to form around his eyes – the barest hint that he was quickly approaching his thirties. Draco thought they were almost more beautiful than any other part of Harry and he couldn’t quite explain why.

 _Yes,_ he thought.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t dwell on the past Harry, and you shouldn’t either. If things had worked out, we wouldn’t have been true to ourselves. I’m done apologising for who I am, I have been for a long time.’ Harry sighed heavily.

‘That’s all I ever wanted Draco.’ Harry turned to look at him and Draco summoned his confidence and held his eye.

‘What.’ He watched as Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He reserved making any judgements until he’d given Harry the opportunity to explain himself.

‘Well, you were always rolling over and taking the hits. And no, I don’t just mean with the healer training.’ Harry held up a hand to stop Draco as he opened his mouth to interrupt. ‘I just wanted you to have some faith in us. Stand up and show people they were wrong about you. I could’ve easily gone charging in and shot them all down, but I knew how much it meant to you that you worked hard and earned it. I wanted you to trust that I’d support you no matter what happened, and you didn’t have to be scared to just be you. I don’t know how that turned out so badly, but I only ever meant well.’

‘So you thought pushing and pushing me would help? It took years to clear my name enough that I could walk down the street without getting hexed within an inch of my life. You can’t expect the world to change overnight. I did some really terrible things and I can’t expect the whole world to forgive me just because you have.’

‘You never hurt anyone, Draco.’ Harry said quietly.

‘Oh, didn’t I? We’ve been through this Harry, so many times. Sure, I didn’t kill anyone, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have blood on my hands. We can talk ourselves around in circles but what’s done is done.’

‘I miss you.’ Harry said abruptly. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He didn’t need this. Not now.

‘You could’ve just told me that instead of playing these stupid games with me.’ Draco said exasperatedly.

‘I know. I’m sorry.’ And there is was. The first apology since the divorce. Draco didn’t know if it was an apology for the invite, or if Harry meant more, but somehow it felt like something had shifted yet again. Draco stood very still as Harry stepped towards him. He fought the instinct to step backwards, instead standing his ground.

‘Potter what are you-’

‘Do you know how difficult it was watching you today.’ Harry said, his voice taking on a strange tone. ‘Chatting with Neville and playing games with Rose and Hugo. Do you have any idea what you look like when you laugh like that, when you smile like no one else is watching?’ Draco thought his heart might burst clear out of his chest it was beating so hard.

‘How much have you been drinking?’ Draco asked him. His voice came out strangled and uneven.

‘You know what I’m like when I’m drunk Draco, and this isn’t it.’ Harry skimmed a thumb over Draco’s left cheek and it was as if time stood still. He couldn’t see straight, he couldn’t think straight. He didn’t move a muscle but that didn’t seem to bother Harry. He looked him straight in the eye as if daring Draco to stop him, but Draco couldn’t. There was a part of him who desperately wanted this to happen. It was the part that told everyone he was fine and moving on and ready to start a new life in Paris.

‘Fuck it.’ Harry said and brought their lips together.

It wasn’t like any kiss they’d ever shared before. It wasn’t like any kiss Draco had ever had with anyone. At first it felt like Harry’s lips were just ghosting over Draco’s, Draco was even about to question if any of it was real when it seemed like Harry’s last thread of restraint snapped. He pulled Draco flush to him and kissed him like his life depended on in. Draco could feel Harry’s chest pressed flush against his own and his hands trembled as he tried his best to be the strong one of the pair.

He tried to slow him down, draw his lips back a bit, but Harry wasn’t falling for it. He gripped Draco’s waist and Draco gave up trying to resist. He met the ferocity of Harry’s kiss. It was clashing teeth and too much tongue, but Draco didn’t care. Harry was warm and familiar and just a little bit intoxicating. As his hands sank into Harry’s hair, he knew he was well and truly fucked. Harry’s hair was always one of Draco’s favourite things about him, even though he always pretended he hated it. Harry tasted like the low-quality beer he insisted on drinking and his birthday chocolate cake and if he was honest, Draco couldn’t get enough.

He was just getting lost in the kiss when Harry pulled sharply on his bottom lip and he was snapped back to his senses. He pushed Harry away from him and fought to catch his breath. They were staring at each other, wild eyed and puffy lipped. Draco could smell Harry on him; a mix of cedar and grapefruit – the notes of the aftershave Draco used to buy him.

‘I-I-I have to go.’ Draco scrabbled in his pockets for his wand. He was too unbalanced to try the floo. It wasn’t until he was turning on the spot that he realised Harry had probably changed the wards after Draco left. As Head Auror and _Harry Potter_ , Harry was conscious about have anti-apparition wards around the house to stop the crazier fans from trying anything.

The last thing he saw as he felt the familiar pull from his navel, was Harry frantically calling for him to stay but as he landed in his crumby little flat he knew he’d made the right decision.

He ran to his shower, desperate to get the smell of Harry’s aftershave off him. He ripped off his blue shirt and the chinos he’d chosen to wear and vanished them. He never wanted to see them again. He stepped into the shower and turned the temperature right up, as if burning a couple of layers of skin was some sort of suitable punishment.

It was fortuitous that Draco hadn’t managed to lift the wards Harry had set because whilst a shower was a great way to disguise the physical appearance of tears, nothing could disguise the sounds of his sobs. Especially not since he’d left his wand in the bedroom where he’d apparated to.

The hot water pounded his back and turned his skin bright red and raw, but he let it. He could hardly feel as his skin burned deeper and deeper. He could kick himself for kissing Harry. He’d worked hard over the past three years to rebuild his life without him. Yet despite his anger and frustration, there was a part of him that loved every second. He hadn’t properly dated anyone since Harry, random drunken fucks hardly counted. He didn’t realise quite now touch starved he’d been until now.

Did that mean he only enjoyed it because he was lonely? Did it matter than it was Harry? He did miss Harry. He missed the house. He missed waking up every morning and seeing that god-awful mop of raven hair. He missed the way Harry took great pleasure in the simplest things like Draco bringing him a cup of tea in the morning or Draco picking an outfit for one of his fancy Ministry do’s because he knew Harry had as much fashion sense as a Hippogriff at a circus.

Draco was dangerously close to letting Harry back into his heart based on one panic attack and a messy kiss in the kitchen. He felt like a giddy fifteen-year-old.

He couldn’t move to Paris soon enough.


	5. Chapter 5

By the third month of Draco’s agreement with Hermione, work was becoming unbearable. One Wednesday afternoon, he found himself sprinting up from the labs to Harry’s office.

‘Potter! POTTER!’ He yelled, banging of Harry’s office door. Harry’s secretary wasn’t at her desk and Draco couldn’t afford to waste any more time. The door was yanked open and a furious looking Harry stared back at him. Draco knew he must’ve interrupted something important because Harry’s jaw was doing that tell-tale twitching.

‘This better be fucking good Malfoy.’ Harry said angrily. He had been more than annoyed at Draco’s behaviour on his birthday and had done everything in his power to make sure Draco saw him everywhere he went in the Ministry. Draco was even starting to see him in his sleep. ‘I’m in the middle of a department head meeting.’

‘I know what’s causing the magic core issues.’ He said with urgency. He searched Harry’s eyes, begging he would understand this was important enough to disrupt his meeting and important enough to not fight Draco on this one.

‘Oh wow. Ok. Give me five minutes to get everyone out of here. Try to contact the Minister for me, please?’ Draco appreciated Harry’s attempt at civility and he dashed off to speak to Kingsley’s secretary.

‘I’m sorry Mr Malfoy, the Minister is fully booked all afternoon. Perhaps you should try asking for an appointment further in advance?’ Kingsley’s bitch of a secretary told Draco with an oversweet voice and a derogatory look.

‘Listen to me.’ Draco said slowly, placing his arms on her desk and leaning over her menacingly. ‘I can see we have a problem here and you can look at me like shit on the bottom of your shoe if you want to, but I’m here on top priority business and I’d appreciate it if you would speak to the Minister immediately.’ She swallowed audibly, and Draco could see his tactics were working. ‘I’m working on the Runcorn case.’ Her eyes widened, and she scrabbled around to find her wand which was buried under piles of poorly organised paperwork. Amateur.

‘I’m very sorry Mr Malfoy, I will send the Minister to you immediately. Where will he be able to find you?’ Better.

‘Thank you. Send him to the Head Auror’s office as quickly as possible. We’ve no time to lose.’ He was back downstairs in Harry’s office as quickly as the Ministry lifts could take him.

‘What does this mean Draco?’ Harry asked him as they waited for Kingsley.

‘Well, if I can isolate the compound then I’ll be able to trace it should the aurors find any more potential sites, and it means that we should be able to reverse the effects on the patients currently stuck in St Mungo’s. I’m sure their loved ones miss them dearly.’ Draco kicked himself when he realised what he’d said. He was trying very hard not to give anything away when he was near Harry.

‘Listen, Draco, about my birthday. I-’

‘Good afternoon gentlemen. I hear we finally have some good news!’ Kingsley cut Harry off when he entered with a beaming smile, dressed in his favourite purple robes which reminded Draco a little too much of Dumbledore.

‘Yes, Minister. I was just explaining to Head Auror Potter that we should be able to revive the patients in St Mungo’s.’ Draco said, although his mind was still with whatever it was that Harry was trying to say to him before they were interrupted. Did he regret the kiss? Was he about to forgive Draco for running off?

‘Excellent. What can you tell us then?’ Kingsley said, taking a seat next to Draco in front of Harry’s desk. It was weirdly reminiscent of the first meeting they’d had when the Minister had offered Draco the contract.

‘The patients have been exposed to a high level done of Aconite Violaceum.’ He announced.

‘Wolfsbane? But surely-’

‘Potter. Don’t profess to understand the minutiae of wolfsbane. Your potion’s grades were atrocious and your Herbology mediocre at best.’ Draco snapped. Kingsley raised his eyebrows and Draco realised he’d failed the professionalism he’d been demanding from Harry. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

‘Aconite Violaceum Mr Malfoy.’ Kingsley prompted.

‘Yes. This particular variety of wolfsbane is incredibly rare and is only found in the Himalayas. Whoever it is who’s involved in it must have a class-A import license to get the product into the country. Even for crooks there’s no way to get through import wards. It must mean there’s someone else involved on the inside.’ Draco explained. He watched as Harry began scribbling on his memo pad.

‘We can use that. It gives us new avenues to explore.’ He said as he wrote.

‘This variety is untraceable in the bloodstream by diagnostic magic if combined with the right ingredients. Someone was definitely keen to cover their tracks. I have the magical signature on file, so it will be traceable if anyone comes across it again. I’ll need to consult with the healer overseeing the patients in order to reverse engineer a cure.’

‘This is great Malfoy. I really appreciate your support on this. I’ll have St Mungo’s contact you directly. I think in the future, you could accompany the aurors on any fieldwork concerning the case. The signature may be on file, but I’d be happier knowing someone with intimate knowledge of the issue is on hand at any given time.’

‘I agree with the Minister, Draco. I need you out there.’ Harry said as he sent his memo to the department. Draco flushed at his choice of words. _He needs your knowledge Draco, he doesn’t need you._ An unwelcome voice in his mind told him.

A small quirk of Harry’s lips told Draco his embarrassment hadn’t gone unnoticed.

‘Of course. Anything I can do to help.’ Draco said cordially.          

Harry had to take that literally.

The next morning a case file landed on Draco’s desk with a complete list of all the locations Runcorn and Hopkirk had been spotted at since they’d begun tailing them.

‘Why am I getting this?’ Draco asked the intern who brought the file to him.

 ‘Auror Macmillan wants you to look through the file and tell him if any of the locations are suitable for growing aconite. He also wants to know if there are any wards or magical residues the aurors should look of for in the field.’ The intern sounded as if she was parroting the exact words Macmillan had said to her and despite Draco’s irritation, he knew there was no point in taking it out on an intern.

 ‘Ok. Tell Macmillan to come down and see me when he has the chance please.’ The intern nodded and scampered away. They always walked around the department like deer caught in the headlights and Draco wondered whether Harry purposefully put the fear of God into them. Harry seemed to know everyone and everything that went on in his department, unlike other department heads. Draco hadn’t realised just how much responsibility Harry was shouldering here. He’d been made Head Auror a year into their marriage and if Draco was honest, it really had put a strain on things.

Harry had instructed the aurors to move Draco into a small office in the main department now that he had solved the medical aspect of the case. Apparently, he was still needed to decipher the lab reports from downstairs when the aurors brought in samples from the raids and was given updated files on every turn of events in the hopes he could offer some insight. Draco was slightly worried about his position in the Ministry now that the potions aspect was through.

The new line of work was much more playing on his knowledge of the dark arts. He was tracking magical signatures of any known Death Eater associates or sympathises. Analysing reports for any kinds of dark magic too advanced for the auror training. His father had often taken him into the basement of the manor to show him some of the dark artefacts the family owned or had collected. When he was older, his father had begun to tell him what some of the artefacts did and what Draco should do with them should the manor be raided, or should the family be threatened.

Draco hoped that his presence in the department wouldn’t knock too main noses out of joint. He wasn’t about to apologise for being there, not when the Minister had requested him specifically, but he didn’t want to cause a stir when he was only there temporarily.

He was disrupted from his perusal of the file by a knock on his office door. It still felt a bit strange to have his own office, but it was a lot warmer up here and he wasn’t about to complain. Not with his circulatory issues.

‘Yes?’ He called distractedly as he tried to finish the last line. He was always terrible at finding his place when he was reading.

‘Draco? Have you got a minute?’ Harry’s head popped around the edge of the door. Draco was disappointed to see he’d finally shaved. He’d gotten used to the way his stubble had made his jawline look so sharp it could cut glass.

‘Oh. Yes, absolutely. How can I help?’ He said awkwardly, straightening his already perfectly straight tie.

‘I see you have the file Macmillan was talking about. Great.’ He entered the room properly and sat on the edge of Draco’s desk. He was momentarily shocked at the familiarity of the gesture.

‘Yes! I was just looking at it. Most of it doesn’t seem of any use.’ He told him. Harry’s frame deflated.

‘Oh. I was really hoping you’d find something. We’re running out of avenues to explore.’

‘I think there’s something funny about this place,’ Draco said absently as he scanned the second page. ‘They’ve both been seen at a private healing clinic. Wouldn’t have been unusual but their appointments seem to have been one after the other every single time they’ve been. They’re obviously not regular appointments, which means they’ve made either emergency appointments or one of those on-the-day appointments they’re trialling from the muggle NHS.’ Harry leaned across the desk and looked over his shoulder to read the same passage Draco had just read.

Draco could feel the warmth of his breath across his cheek and could smell the same aftershave he’d been wearing on his birthday, this time mixed with the oversweet tea Harry liked to drink. Draco told himself it didn’t affect him, but the fuzzy feeling in his stomach and the slight wobble in his breath said otherwise.

‘I see what you mean. It would make sense too. It’d be the kind of place where people might expect to see aconite, so that wouldn’t raise too much suspicion. It’ll also have the broadest demographic possible, which explains why none of the victims relate to each other.’ Harry said. Draco flushed at the methodical way Harry dealt with the case. He’d never seen Harry in his professional sphere and it was quite maddening.

‘I see your point, and absolutely that makes sense, but it doesn’t explain why none of the patients have been to the clinic within a week of their symptoms. In fact, the young girl hasn’t been a patient at this clinic at all.’ Draco explained. He got the feeling he was missing something.

‘Do you know if any of them were checked for memory interference when they were revived?’ Harry asked him. Ah.

‘No, because they all remembered exactly what they were doing when they took ill.’ Draco said with a realisation. ‘Oh. I can’t believe I didn’t see this before!’ Draco said with a cry of frustration.

‘What is it?’ Harry asked him.

‘You called the patients victims. Which means you think this was a planned attack?’

‘Well yeah, people don’t just have their magical cores severed just because they caught a common cold or had a bad night’s sleep. They have to be tampered with in some way.’

‘So, what if each of these ‘victims’ were targeted through their connections to the clinic. They didn’t have to be patients. They just had to be friends or family of patients or a relative of someone who works there. If they were exposed to aconite and valerian in the same dose, in theory there could be a targeted memory loss which would make them forget taking anything, but not forget the ill effects.’ Draco explained. He glanced at Harry, excited to be finally cracking the case wide open.

‘Ok, but wouldn’t we have noticed valerian in their systems? It’s a common ingredient in potions and healing.’

‘Exactly, Harry! Each of them were sedated when they were admitted into St Mungo’s to slow the effects of the aconite. We wouldn’t have found anything unusual about seeing valerian in the samples because the healers had given them doses of it themselves!’

‘I need to get a team of aurors on surveillance at the clinic. Kingsley reduced the urgency levels on the case when he realised that there weren’t going to be any more victims soon. Whatever it is, we think it didn’t have the desired effect and they gave up for a while to change the formula. I don’t have clearance to go straight in there and we can’t afford to spook whoever’s involved until we have enough evidence to bring them in. Do you think it’s a potion or some sort of pill?’

‘I really couldn’t say. A potion is more conventional, as pills are far more muggle and not as easy accepted among a lot of wizards. Having said that, private clinics often trial more experimental drugs and apothecaries have been trying to create pill style treatments for their longer shelf life.’

‘Oh god this is such a mess.’ Harry said with a frustrated groan. He rubbed his temples as if staving off a bad headache. Draco knew from experience that Harry was prone to migraines. He always said that it might be some residual magic left from the Horcrux. It would made sense it would accumulate where Harry’s scar was, but Harry refused to see a healer.

Before Draco could even think about the inappropriate nature of the gesture. He pulled one of Harry’s hands away from his face and held it.

‘Harry, it’s ok.’ He said, his thumb stroking gently over the back of Harry’s knuckles. ‘We’ll figure it out. It’s not your responsibility to fix this on your own, we can figure this out together and no one else needs to get hurt, ok?’ Draco knew how overwrought Harry got when he felt like he wasn’t solving his cases quick enough. Draco had done a lot to help Harry’s saviour complex and Harry was able to control some of his compulsions a lot better than before. Still, it was a part of him and Draco couldn’t help but admire Harry’s selfless dedication.

‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ Harry said as he relaxed a bit. That was when Draco realised he was treating Harry exactly as he had when they were married. Harry seemed to realise it too and he jerked his hand away from Draco. ‘I’m so sorry Draco. This isn’t your job anymore. I didn’t mean to make you feel like…I’m really sorry. I should get back to work.’ Harry jumped off Draco’s desk like he’d had a hot poker up the arse and all but ran out of Draco’s office.

Draco was incredibly confused. He wanted so much to leave here and get Harry out of his head but every time he saw him recently, it was like Harry really wanted him there. He didn’t understand what had changed. Yes, Draco always complained that Harry was around everywhere he went, but he’d never tried to engage with Draco like this. In fact, Harry was often quite cold and shut off. Draco should’ve expected that though, Harry thought Draco stopped loving him.

Draco’s head fell heavily into his hands when he realised for the first time that maybe it was him who’d screwed up their marriage, not Harry. 

He said as much to Hermione when they had lunch at the Ministry the next day. They’d been having lunch together once a week since Draco had started working there. Hermione said the familiarity would help him settle in much better and she wasn’t wrong.

‘I’m just so confused Hermione. At the time I felt like Harry was constantly pushing me into doing things and going places that I didn’t want to go. I thought he wanted me to be someone I wasn’t, but now I’m wondering if it was all me.’ He couldn’t get the new feeling of guilt out of his mind.

Hermione tucked a thick curl behind her ear as she thought about what Draco was saying. She looked particularly well today, purple robes really suited her complexion. Draco would know, he spent hours as a child listening to his mother tell him all about how different cuts and colours suited people in different ways.

‘Well, have you considered reviewing one of your memories?’ Draco had told Hermione about how his mind healer had suggested memory viewing as a coping mechanism and Hermione had been very enthusiastic about it. In fact, her belief it would work was one of the reasons Draco had persisted with it at first.

‘Why?’ He asked her, playing with his lasagne instead of eating it. He’s not sure why he got it, Harry always preferred lasagne to him, even though Draco perfected the recipe quite quickly.

‘Well, you know how everything felt to you, but maybe you could pick a time when you felt uncomfortable or upset and try to think about how Harry might have felt about it.’ She suggested. He could feel her watching him intently, even though his eyes were trained on his plate.

‘I never thought about doing that. I suppose I could try it.’ He admitted reluctantly. He hated to have to see things from Harry’s perspective. It wasn’t that he didn’t care how Harry felt, he just hated the amount of energy it took him to deal with all of the emotions it evoked. His potions got less and less effective the more he took them, and he was always scared if he doubled the dose he would have less time.

‘I’ll try it I suppose.’ He glanced up at her and was unsurprised to find her grinning at him.

‘That’s all I ask, Draco. I’m not here to make you do anything you don’t want to. I just want you to be happy. We all do.’ What was that supposed to mean? Were they talking about him behind his back? He hoped he wasn’t becoming paranoid on top of everything else.

∞

 When he got home that night, he decided that’s exactly what he would do.

After dinner, he allowed himself a half hour to read another one of his muggle romance novels, the ones he absolutely refused to admit he read. Harry used to laugh something terrible when Draco transfigured the covers of his book whilst in company. It was a habit he picked up as a teenager when he began to explore his own ideas and he knew his father wouldn’t approve. It was cowardly, but sometimes Draco wasn’t very good at asserting himself. Hard to believe when he’d been such a loud-mouthed kid.

He walked over to the pensieve and found himself staring down at it. He’d stopped putting it away after he’d used it since he’d started working at the Ministry, being in such close contact with Harry had made it difficult for him, and he’d needed his memory viewings more than ever. He’d mostly just viewed the nice ones, a couple of dates or the time Harry took him on a spontaneous trip to Cornwall one weekend.

He took a memory vial from the back of his cabinet. It was one he’d never reviewed at all, it was even collecting dust. There was a ring on the shelf where the vial had stood, and he was hit with a realisation that whilst he’d viewed his and Harry’s last fight a hundred times over, he’d never confronted some of the harder parts of their relationship.

He paused before tipping the memory into the pensieve. He had a gut wrenching feeling that if he viewed this memory now, so long after it happened, his entire view of his marriage would change. He wasn’t sure he was willing to admit the blame. He couldn’t deny any longer that he still loved Harry. Hell, he was as in love with him now as he had ever been, but that couldn’t change what had broken between them. Could he ever forgive himself if it really was his own fault? Could he ever look at Harry again knowing what he did to him, to them?

Draco glanced over at a picture frame above the fireplace. It had been taken when Teddy was a small baby, before he and Harry had been married. Teddy was squirming in Harry’s arms and wiggling his chubby little fingers at Draco. Mrs Weasley had managed to capture the exact moment Teddy’s hair had changed from his favourite turquoise shade, but he’d had less control over it when he was a baby, and it ended up half white-blond, half jet black. Draco realised that it wasn’t just about him and Harry. Teddy had been, and still was, as much part of their relationship as he or Harry ever were. Draco owed it to Teddy to own up to his mistakes. He’d taken yet another happy family away from a kind hearted little boy who deserved so much more. He shook his head as he made his choice. It was now or never.

_‘Draco? You haven’t touched your food.’ Harry said. They were in a fancy Thai fusion restaurant in London. Harry had just heard he was being promoted to Head Auror and they’d gone out to celebrate._

_‘Oh, sorry. I was distracted.’ Draco mumbled. He cursed himself internally; “Malfoys never mumble”, his father’s voice rang inside his head. His arm twitched, as if reminding him of his dark mark, and he tried his best to maintain calm._

_‘Is everything ok?’ Harry asked him, reaching over and taking his hand. ‘You’ve been quiet all evening. If you didn’t feel like celebrating, you could’ve said. I just wanted to spend some quality time with you.’ His smile was endearing, and he’d never looked so beautiful. Draco could’ve stared at him all day and never gotten bored. There was something captivating about Harry, he commanded the attention of the whole room without even trying. Whenever Draco spent time with him, Harry made him feel like nothing else mattered._

_‘Everything’s fine,’ he lied. ‘I was just thinking about work.’ Work. He hated his work. It was a pathetic excuse and it was the only one he could ever come up with these days. He wasn’t fine. He’d run out of time to brew his potions because a big order had come in at work and they needed him to oversee the production process. His anxiety was at an all-time high and he was trying his best not to look at anyone else in the room._

_‘I see.’ Harry said shortly. ‘Well, if work is more important…’_

_‘No! No, of course it isn’t. You’re my priority.’ His palms were sweating, and he was feeling a bit light-headed, but he couldn’t let Harry down. Draco was so proud of Harry, he’d worked so hard to become Head Auror and Draco wanted him to enjoy it._

_‘You’re not eating though. You love Thai food.’ Harry’s confusion made it so much worse. Guilt clawed away at Draco and the edges of his vision blurred. He knew he wasn’t good enough for Harry, he knew Harry should be able to come out to a restaurant and celebrate his promotion with someone who could enjoy it right alongside him, but Draco couldn’t do that._

_Draco couldn’t tell him that going out in public terrified him. Everyone looked at him like he didn’t deserve to walk the same street as them or breathe the same air. He was sorry for what he’d done, he’d said so many times he’d lost count. They still looked straight at his arm where they knew his mark was before they ever looked at him. He was still a person; didn’t that count for anything?_

_And Harry. His beautiful Harry. How could Draco tell him how he felt? That there were voices in his head telling him he didn’t deserve the chance he’d been given. He didn’t deserve someone like Harry who should’ve married Ginny Weasley and had two kids and a dog. Draco wasn’t anyone. He’d hurt people, he’d backed the wrong side and people died because of him and everywhere he went people knew it._

_‘Draco? Are you even listening to me?’ Harry was becoming irritated. Draco had to do something to fix it, but what? He didn’t have his potion, he couldn’t speak properly without saying the words in his head three times to make sure they were the right ones._

_‘Yes.’ His voice sounded wrong. ‘I’m listening. I’m sorry, I guess I’m just not very hungry.’ He was never hungry anymore. He ate because Harry did. When Harry wasn’t there, Draco didn’t even bother._

_‘You don’t want to be here, I get it.’ He’d done it again. He’d upset Harry. He didn’t want that. He wanted to go home and sit with him and keep him close because Harry loved him, and he loved Harry. He didn’t want Harry to know what was inside his head because Harry wouldn’t love him anymore and everything would be so much worse._

_His potion would be ready when he got home. If he could just get home and take it, he could talk to Harry and fix it all._

_The edges of his vision were totally gone now. He looked at Harry and he could see him talking but he couldn’t hear any of the words. His head felt soupy and he couldn’t concentrate. Harry yelled something in his face and stood up to leave. Draco couldn’t feel his legs as he ran after him, but he kept going._

_‘Are you ashamed to be seen with me?!’ He heard Harry shout when they were outside on the street. Outside where Draco was even more exposed._

_‘No Harry.’ He tried weakly, but it sounded quiet and pathetic._

_‘You can go out with me. You’re not here to apologise to everyone! I see the way people look at you, I’m not an idiot. Why do you always cower away like that? You used to be so sarcastic and witty and alive. Since when do you give a fuck about anyone else?’ I know Harry, he thought. I’m still here._

_‘I’m not ashamed.’ He tried. He wasn’t really, he knew Harry loved him and that was all that mattered. He just couldn’t help the way he seized up and couldn’t think properly. There were too many noises and too many people and he kept forgetting his potions because time wasn’t working right. He knew it was work. The stress was bringing on his attacks too often and he couldn’t keep making his potions quick enough._

_He’d zoned out again for too long and Harry had had enough. He disapparated and left Draco outside in the rain. He hadn’t even noticed it was raining._

Draco sucked in great lungfuls of air as he stumbled away from the pensieve. His heart was pounding, and his body was shaking. He realised now, now that he was getting better and he’d had time to come to terms with himself, that he hadn’t been protecting Harry from anything. He’d been lying.

Draco had justified not telling Harry the truth with the idea that Harry couldn’t love him as much as Draco loved Harry, but all he’d done was make Harry think Draco didn’t love him at all. He’d pushed him away, he’d made Harry feel like Draco didn’t want to be with him. Harry thought Draco acted strangely when they went out because Draco was ashamed of him. That couldn’t have been further from the truth.

What did it matter now though? Draco was still the same person. Sure, he didn’t have attacks nearly as often, and he didn’t have an overwhelming need to stay inside all the time, but those issues hadn’t changed. If anything, it would be worse for Draco to tell Harry now. Harry would never let him look after Teddy on his own if he knew how much of a mess Draco was. Not that he’d ever had an episode whilst Teddy was around. No, it absolutely wouldn’t do to go back on things that were done and dusted.

He’d still have to go to France.


	6. Chapter 6

Once they got clearance, Harry asked Draco to go with him to the clinic to scope the place out. They were both going to Polyjuice; Harry going undercover as a patient, while Draco went for ‘moral support’. Draco wasn’t convinced that it would work but Harry seemed completely confident. Draco had to remind himself that Harry had more than likely done this a hundred times before and Draco had been none the wiser. That wasn’t a pretty thought.

         Draco felt a little queasy as he looked at his altered appearance in the mirror. He’d Polyjuiced as one of the interns; a dark-haired, brown-eyed seventeen-year-old with non-existent cheekbones and an odd scar to the left of his mouth.

         Harry wasn’t faring much better. He’d ended up Polyjuicing as one of the guys down at human resources. Some twenty-one-year-old acne prone brainless wonder. Draco hoped whoever brewed the Polyjuice did it to Draco’s standard because he would not be happy if Harry’s flawless face was ruined by this idiot.

         He was waiting in the reception area of the private wizarding clinic in Harley Street. The whole building was under muggle repellent charms which acted much like disillusionment charms except they didn’t deceive witches and wizards.

         He was trying his best to cast his wards as subtly as possible without withdrawing his wand from his sleeve, which was proving to be quite difficult since he couldn’t make the right wand movements very well. He prided himself on being proficient at wandless and wordless magic, but spells such as these he would admit were beyond him. His father taught him many such spells, most of which had been born from dark curses purebloods would cast on their possessions to ensure only members of the own family could possess them or use them. Of course, eventually people worked out counter-curses and such forth, but even those stayed within families.

         For the first few minutes, Draco wasn’t picking up anything untoward. He was even beginning to think all their theories and leads had come to nothing when he felt a pull from an old anti-stasis charm he’d learned from the Black family archives. He felt an odd shift in the wards of the clinic which would’ve been imperceptible to pretty much anyone except himself, who knew what to look for. It was obvious to Draco that someone was keeping something here that they shouldn’t.

         He was relieved to see Polyjuiced Harry leave the waiting room of Healer Matthews, the chief healer of the practice. Fake-Harry shook hands with the healer and Draco noticed a small bottle in his hand which looked like it contained small red pills. Draco was glad Harry was done, because they only had warrant for an hour’s worth of Polyjuice and they’d been inside the building for forty-five minutes already. Harry turned to Draco and shot him a dazzling smile which Draco knew was all Harry. He might be wearing a different face, but Polyjuice could only change so much.

         They strolled casually out of the main doors and Draco was glad of the fresh air. He wasn’t fond of the way private clinics always tried to make it look like it wasn’t a medical facility. There were far too many scatter cushions and ‘accent walls’. It wasn’t a magazine HQ for crying out loud. They were careful of passing muggles; many wizards had been caught short leaving magically hidden buildings, forgetting that muggles weren’t accustomed to seeing people randomly appear in the middle of the street.

         They made it a couple of blocks away, a distance they’d pre-agreed would be far enough for them to apparate back into Harry’s office without being too conspicuous. Harry offered Draco his arm, and apparated them both directly into his office, seeing as the wards only allowed for Harry to apparate in and out.

         What Draco had failed to remember was, that occasionally if one was to apparate close to the end of the dosage of a potion, such as Polyjuice, it could sometimes trigger a reaction. So, when he and Harry landed in the office, Draco was no longer accompanying the smarmy git from HR, but the heroic git that is Harry Potter. Without thinking about it twice, which with hindsight is what Draco really should’ve done, he grabbed Harry by the collar, shoved him against his office wall, and kissed him.

         Again, Harry tasted like chocolate. He must’ve had pain au chocolat for breakfast – he always was fond of sweets. Strangely enough, Harry seemed prepared for this kind of reaction, and met his kiss instantly. Unlike their previous kiss, there were no teeth and just the right amount of tongue. Draco re-mapped the inside of Harry’s mouth as if searching for the last drop of rain in a drought. Harry brought his hands up to cup Draco’s cheeks and he could feel the callouses from years of quidditch playing. Draco had always a had strange fascination with Harry’s hands.

         Draco could feel the stubble Harry had regrown catching on his chin as their jaws worked. It sent a strange thrill up his spine for a reason he couldn’t identify and despite the strange circumstances, he felt like he was coming home. Harry’s lips were always warm and comforting, and this time when he pulled on Draco’s bottom lip, Draco did nothing to stop him.

         The scents of cedar and grapefruit assaulted Draco’s senses again and left him feeling dizzy. His grip on the front of Harry’s robes tightened and Harry let out a strangled kind of whine as he was pulled even closer to Draco’s chest. Draco never wanted the feeling of Harry’s lips moving against his own to stop, and he especially didn’t want to have to confront whatever it was he thought he was doing, but he was quickly running out of air. Eventually he was forced to pull away, the both of them flushed and panting slightly.

         ‘Draco,’ Harry said breathlessly, ‘what-’

         ‘Don’t. You. Dare. Wear. Another. Man’s. Face. When. You’re. With. Me.’ He said as he beat Harry’s chest with his fists. His voice cracked on the last word and gave way to a tidal wave of emotion Draco himself hadn’t expected.

         ‘Wait, Draco…stop. What’s going on?’ Harry said, grabbing hold of Draco’s wrists. Draco couldn’t event explain because he had no idea. He was fine before they left for the clinic, albeit a little reserved out of sheer nervousness at being alone with Harry in such a foreign context. He was fine whilst he was inside the clinic, he could focus on his charms and counter-curses. Yet seeing Harry’s face again when they landed broke something in Draco and he was feeling completely overwhelmed.

         Of course, he couldn’t find the words to explain any of this to Harry, so instead he let out a choked sob and collapsed against him. Harry didn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms around him and let him cry against his shoulder. Ironically, the tears beaded against Harry’s robes and rolled straight off – all Ministry approved robes were complete with permanent impervius charms. Draco felt Harry’s hand on the back of his head as he held him to his chest and the tiny gesture, something Harry had done all the time when they’d been together, nearly broke Draco.

         ‘Shh, shh. I’m here, it’s me. You’re ok.’ Harry whispered in his ear as Draco tried too hard to regain control of himself. He was gasping in breaths too quickly and he was at a high risk of hyperventilating, but Harry stayed whispering in his ear, acting like an anchor for him to hold onto.

         ‘Harry,’ he whimpered pathetically. He shouldn’t have taken this job. Not when he was so set on leaving. He couldn’t be around Harry for more than a few minutes without wishing with every fibre of his being that things could be different.

         ‘I know, I know, you don’t have to explain.’ Harry told him quietly and for once, Draco was inclined to believe him.

 

Of course, Harry sent Draco home early that day. Shame faced and apologetic, Draco let himself be nearly pushed through the floo by a wrung out looking Harry without passing on any of the information he’d discovered whilst at the clinic. Draco trusted that Harry wouldn’t get him into trouble, considering that technically Harry was Draco’s supervisor, but still; Draco felt like a prized idiot and a total failure.

         He didn’t even have the energy to make it to his bed as he stumbled out of the fireplace in his dingy flat. He’d cried away his energy for the day and his eyes were so raw it was painful just to blink. He curled up on the beat up old sofa he’d bought cheap at an auction and pulled the thick woollen throw over himself. Curling into the foetal position as closely and the small sofa would allow, his mind wandered back to the kiss he’d all but attacked Harry with earlier.

         He was finding it difficult to regret it. He knew it made him sound like a lovesick teenager, but he’d missed Harry. He still missed Harry. He was starting to wonder whether moving to Paris was a coward’s way out. Even so, just because they’d kissed a couple of times, it didn’t mean they were going to try anything. Surely once you’ve been married, been so close to someone, it’s only natural that you’d still feel a connection with them? He couldn’t be the only divorcee who’d ever felt this way, and hadn’t his attacks been better since the divorce? He didn’t know. He could think himself around in circles.

         He drifted off into a fitful sleep, not caring that it was only four in the afternoon. He was more than done with the day.

         He felt like he’d only been asleep for a few minutes when the floo flared and through his blurry vision he could make out messy dark hair and round glasses.

         ‘Harry,’ he mumbled, not quite awake and not quite asleep.

         ‘It’s me,’ Harry said quietly. Draco sensed him kneel in front of Draco on the sofa, but he was too tired to open his eyes again. ‘What are you doing sleeping here, hm? You should’ve gone to bed hours ago.’ He was jostled as Harry lifted him up from the sofa and started carrying him towards his bedroom. Show off. Auror training looked good on him, Draco thought idly as he swayed a little in Harry’s arms. Draco used to laugh at him because he was forever forgetting he was a wizard. Most wizards with Harry’s kind of raw power wouldn’t even hesitate to levitate Draco to his bed, but not Harry. Draco would laugh now but he was far too tired and he was quite enjoying Harry’s warmth.

         ‘Wha’ time s’it?’ He muttered almost incoherently as Harry put him down gently on the bed.

         ‘It’s just gone eleven. I would’ve been here to see you sooner, but I got caught up. One of the Aurors got injured on a raid and I had paperwork up to my ears.’ He should’ve sounded annoyed, but Draco could tell even with his eyes closed by the lilt of his voice, Harry was smiling as he said it. He felt him smooth a loose strand of hair away from Draco’s face. He’d been wearing it longer than he used to, and it was just long enough to hang in his eyes if he didn’t style it.

         ‘S’ok. Didn’t know you were coming.’ Draco yawned.

         ‘Do you need anything?’ Harry asked him. Draco paused for a second but decided he’d deal with the consequences later.

         ‘Yellow potion. Bathroom. Middle shelf.’ Harry padded quietly down the hall and Draco unconsciously held his breath.

         ‘What the hell Draco, there are hundreds of these- you know what, never mind. Now isn’t the time.’ He propped Draco up enough that he could down the potion and Draco flopped boneless back onto the bed. He felt the potion run through him and it almost made him feel a little drunk.

         ‘Thnks.’ He mumbled. He heard Harry turn to leave and he reached out with an arm that felt too heavy and a bit fuzzy. ‘Stay,’ he said. Harry paused, and Draco didn’t dare try to open his eyes.

         ‘Maybe another time, yeah?’ He said gently and as Draco drifted back off to sleep, he could’ve sworn he felt Harry press a kiss to his forehead.

 

∞

 

The following day was a Friday, and Draco kept his head down at work and tried his best to avoid Harry at all costs. He didn’t want to play with Harry’s emotions any more than he already had done. The only thing getting him through the day was the thought of having Teddy for the weekend.

         He figured he’d go to Harry’s to pick Teddy up this time. They’d just about been getting on at work and Draco was starting to feel guilty for the number of times Andromeda had been stuck at home waiting with Teddy while Draco and Harry made a cowardly attempt to co-parent. Draco thought that if Teddy were there, Harry wouldn’t bring up the topic of yesterday’s mishap, so it wouldn’t matter if Draco picked up Teddy from Andromeda’s or the house. Harry’s birthday had taken the edge off and Draco was finally coming to terms with seeing the house without living there anymore.

         The case was actually going well. Draco knew it would take him a few weeks to analyse the pills Harry had been given at the clinic. He’d said that Healer Matthews had all but thrown them into his hands and told him they fix almost anything. Draco was certain that these were the pills that had caused the problem, but he’d need to use muggle techniques to analyse their contents and whilst he had some knowledge of the subject, he would have to be much more careful. Muggles didn’t get instantaneous results, so Draco would have to wait a while before he knew exactly what he was dealing with.

         Draco knew he was clock watching. Every five minutes felt like some kind of purgatory and he was sure he’d read the same set of results three times and he still had no idea what they meant. He’d sent a couple of the pills down to the labs because apparently there was a muggleborn downstairs who’d had proper muggle lab experience. Draco had to admit he was relieved. It wasn’t that he wasn’t capable of doing it himself, but he’d been in complete turmoil over his behaviour with Harry and he really couldn’t focus on anything.

         Thankfully, he’d managed to pass the final two hours of his working day prepping the file to be sent to Macmillan when all the results came through. Although Harry was the lead Auror on the case, the less significant details were being dealt with by Macmillan since Harry already had a lot of other responsibilities. It turned out Draco hadn’t needed to go to such lengths to stay in his office and avoid Harry, as the auror who’d been injured in a raid was Ron, and he hadn’t exactly been following protocol at the time. That meant Harry was more than preoccupied and hadn’t been seen all day. Draco was under the impression Ronald wasn’t really enjoying his role in the auror force, and Draco wouldn’t be surprised if he heard that he’d be leaving soon.

         He headed home to get changed before he went to pick up Teddy. Normally Harry fed Teddy before he went to Draco’s since Draco used to work late on a Friday, which no one hated more than him. Ok, Harry probably hated it more, but that wasn’t exactly a surprise.

         Draco fumbled around in his wardrobe and pulled out a random white shirt and some jeans. Why was it that all of Draco’s casual clothes were ones Harry had bought him? He must look so pathetic constantly showing up in clothes he wasn’t even capable of buying for himself. He’d grown up always being forced to wear the height of wizarding fashion at all times. He was proud of his heritage, not so much the dark arts, but he was proud of being one of the few remaining descendants of the Black family, and the only remaining descendent of the Malfoy family. Which actually probably didn’t even exist anymore considering he was actually a Potter. Either way, casual clothing had never been his strong suit. It worked well really; Harry bought him casual muggle clothes, and Draco bought Harry formal wizard robes. It was a great system.

         He was nervous as he got ready to go to Harry’s. He knew now he was able to apparate in and out, but it didn’t feel quite right to do so. It wasn’t his home anymore and his mother always told him it was rude to apparate into other people’s homes.

         He apparated to the doorstep of the house and knocked on her door. He cast a cooling charm quickly since it was a scorching hot day and even in the few seconds standing with his back to the sun he was feeling it. The downside to having a pasty complexion. He wasn’t waiting long when the door opened, and his heart sunk in his chest.

         ‘Hi! You must be Draco!’ There in front of him stood Leggy-Blonde. She was wearing the skimpiest spaghetti strap top and jean shorts and Draco thought it was highly inappropriate around a child. He’d almost completely forgotten about Harry’s stupid girlfriend with everything that’d happened between him and Harry recently.

         ‘Yes I am.’ He said coldly. He was furious.

         ‘I’m Helen!’ She told him brightly. As if he asked. She stepped aside to let him in and he swept down the hallway like he owned the place. Well, to be fair he had owned the place once upon a time.

         ‘DRACO!’ Teddy launched himself at Draco.

         ‘TED!’ Draco said a lot more brightly than usual. _Fuck Leggy-Blonde._ He was never going to call that bitch Helen. Hela maybe.

         ‘He’s been excited to see you all week.’ Harry told him as he appeared from the kitchen. Draco grinned at him.

         ‘Of course he has, I’m his favourite.’ He said smugly as he gave Teddy a squeeze and let him go. Teddy’s hair quickly turned platinum blond with turquoise tips and Draco was smug as all hell knowing that Teddy had changed it because of him instead of Hela. Helen.

         ‘Yes, well, you’d best make the most of your last weekend.’ Harry said with a wistful smile. Draco’s insides froze. It was August. Teddy was starting Hogwarts this year.

         He glanced down at Teddy and saw that the little boy’s face had also fallen. Well done Harry, scare the poor boy more.

         ‘Oh yes, little Ed is going to a school this year.’ Leggy-Blonde said from behind him. Ed? Who the fuck did she think she was? She doesn’t get to call Draco’s son fucking Ed.

         ‘Yes, well, you two best be going.’ Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck as he always did when he felt awkward. His lips pressed into a tight line and Draco had the strong suspicion that something else was going on that he didn’t know about.

         ‘Come on then, Ted. What do you want to do first?’ Draco asked him as they headed through to the living room to use Harry’s floo.

         ‘ICE CREAM!’ Teddy yelled at the top of his voice. Draco rolled his eyes at Harry who snickered.

         ‘One of those weekends then.’ Draco said with an amused smile as they stepped into the floo together.

         When they arrived at Draco’s flat, Draco dropped the act. Apparently so did Teddy, who flung himself down on Draco’s sofa in a way that imitated Pansy so much that Draco nearly panicked.

         ‘What’s up Ted?’ Draco asked him. Teddy shrugged and buried his face in the sofa cushions. Teddy wasn’t the type of kid to sulk, he usually took everything in his stride and complained as little as possible, a trait he must’ve developed from Harry because everyone knew Draco was an absolute drama queen.

         ‘I hate her.’ Teddy said, his voice muffled against the dark material.

         ‘Helen?’ Draco asked him, careful to use the right name. Teddy nodded. He reluctantly pulled his head up off the sofa, so Draco could sit down next to him.

         ‘She’d just always showing up and Dad forgets about me. I know it’s selfish but I’m going to school and I want to see him.’ Teddy curled up in a ball and Draco’s chest ached for him. He didn’t deserve such a sweet boy.

         ‘No Ted, it’s not selfish. Hogwarts is a really big thing for you and Harry knows that. I’m sure he doesn’t mean it. Have you told him?’

         ‘No, I didn’t want to make him mad.’ Teddy said quietly.

         ‘Don’t be silly. Even if he does get mad, you tell me and I’ll jinx him into the middle of next week.’ That got a laugh out of him.

         ‘Thanks.’ He said with a small smile.

         ‘Anytime. Come on then, let’s get you that ice cream. This is going to be your favourite weekend ever.’ Draco said, jumping up with feigned enthusiasm. Teddy’s grin lit up his whole face.

         Draco decided that he would make the most of having Teddy this weekend because he wasn’t sure when he would get the opportunity to do it again. He’d take him for ice cream at Fortescue’s and he’d let him get whatever he wanted at Quality Quidditch Supplies. Fuck the rules, if his son wanted a broom in his first year, he’d have a damn broom. Draco would just be careful to make sure he didn’t boast about it. He was sure Teddy would be sorted into Hufflepuff; he was so kind and giving and loyal there was no way he would ever hurt a fly. Draco found he didn’t much care what house Teddy was in, so long as he was happy. He was sure Harry had already talked to him about that, but if Teddy brought it up at any point over the weekend, he’d make sure he knew that Draco would love him no matter what happened.

As they flooed to Diagon, Draco tried his best to ignore the small feeling of guilt niggling in the back of his mind. He had a meeting on Monday with an agent to sort out the apartment he was going to rent in France. He had an international Portkey booked and had requested the time off work. Thankfully, as Harry was Head Auror he was far too important to deal with such menial tasks as granting holidays, and thus far Draco had managed to make no mention of his planned trip. He’d be back in time for work on Tuesday anyway, he was sure Harry would never even notice.

The only problem he had was that his loan had been rejected by Gringotts. He would just have to apply for any potions related job, regardless of whether he was overqualified, and hope for the best. After all, he could always work his way up the chain like he had here.

Draco watched as Teddy practically danced down the street towards the ice cream parlour. He took in the delight on Teddy’s face that was there just because he was spending time with Draco, and he was sure that whenever his time came, he was most assuredly going to hell.


	7. Chapter 7

 

‘We need to talk.’ Harry said as he barged his way into Draco’s small office on Tuesday morning.

         ‘Do you mind not disrupting my work for no good reason, Potter.’ Draco snapped. He was in a foul mood. He’d been over the moon yesterday when he’d officially signed a lease for an apartment just south of Paris starting in November. However, that excitement was short lived when he realised that on Thursday his little wolf would be going to Hogwarts for the first time. Draco finally understood why his own mother had wept for days before Draco’s first year. He felt like a little piece of his heart was leaving with Teddy.

         ‘Come off it, Draco. Stop playing games with me.’ Harry shot back.

         ‘I’m not playing games, Potter. I’m on the verge of getting you the evidence you need to prove the clinic is involved in this damn case and to be honest the sooner this case is solved the better. We’ve been monitoring Hopkirk and Runcorn for weeks now and we’ve still got no tangible evidence to link them to the case.’ Draco’s fuse was very short at the minute and Harry had always known how to get under his skin.

         ‘I don’t care about the ‘damn’ case.’ Harry growled. That got Draco’s attention.

         ‘My, my, we are sensitive today, Potter. Lover’s tiff?’ Draco mused. The familiar twitch in Harry’s jaw appeared and Draco felt a little thrill shoot down his spine knowing he could press Harry’s buttons just as easily.

         ‘What the hell are you on about?’ Harry demanded.

         ‘What was her name? Hilary? Teddy hates her by the way.’ Draco knew he was being petty, but he couldn’t help himself.

         ‘Oh for crying out loud, Draco. Get over yourself. We need to talk about that kiss and if you think I’m going to let those potions go, you’ve got another thing coming.’ Harry was leaning menacingly on his desk the same way Draco had done when he’d needed to bully the Minister’s secretary.

         ‘There’s nothing to say.’ Draco said shortly. He didn’t want to talk about it and the middle of the work day was absolutely not the time or the place.

         ‘Don’t give me that. Do you really think I’m going to let Teddy stay at yours if you’ve got some disgusting potions addiction?’ Harry was seething. Draco could’ve seen it, having known Harry all these years, except he didn’t need to. The ink well on his desk was rattling and the generic picture frames on his office walls were shaking. Harry’s magic was reacting to his anger and threatening to explode.

         ‘Using my relationship with Teddy against me, are you?’ Draco’s voice was low and cold. ‘Because the last time I check, I’m the one who’s related to Teddy by blood.’ Draco knew it was the wrong thing to say, but he was more than pissed that after all this time, Harry still assumed the worst of him.

         ‘How dare you imply that my relationship with Teddy is less important than yours. Remus and Tonks _chose_ me to take care of him if anything happened. Tonks never even fucking met you.’ Harry spat. Draco was incensed.

         ‘Oh yeah, there you go again with _The Chosen One_ thing. You think you’re so much better than me just because you got that stupid scar and have the whole world fawning all over you!’

         ‘You’re taking the piss, right? You can’t seriously be throwing that in my face again. Who even are you?’ Draco knew he was being horrible and unreasonable, but he didn’t much care. He was having a terrible day and he couldn’t deal with this right now. Thankfully, when Teddy went off to school, he and Harry wouldn’t have any reason to see each other anymore.

         ‘Potter. You need to leave.’ Draco could feel his anxiety building and he was not about to have a breakdown in the middle of work.

         ‘Why should I? This is _my_ department and you are _my_ employee and if I feel the need to speak to you I’ll damn well do so. How do I know that this addiction isn’t affecting your performance?’ Draco knew Harry was right but he was not going to be pushed around by him.

         ‘Fire me if you want.’ Draco said, his voice shaking. ‘I’ve done more to solve this case than the rest of you morons put together. Fired or hired, get the hell out of my office.’ His breathing was becoming uneven and he was twitching with the effort of restraining himself. Harry needed to get the hell away from him in the next couple of minutes or it would all go to shit all over again.

         ‘What the fuck, Draco? Why are you being like this, it’s my right to know what’s going on as your boss and your friend.’

         ‘YOU’RE NOT MY FUCKING FRIEND!’ Draco screeched. His heart was pounding, and hot tears were welling in his eyes. Why couldn’t Harry understand that Draco needed him to leave?

         ‘I see.’ The anger drained out of Harry in an instant and his expression was so wounded that Draco wished he could just evaporate on the spot. ‘This isn’t over.’ Harry said as he turned on his heels and stormed out.

         Draco collapsed into his desk chair and took ragged breaths trying to get his anxiety under control. A couple of stray tears escaped his eyes, but he scrubbed them away with such ferocity it made his eyes sting.

         Twenty minutes later he’d calmed himself down enough to resume his work. He refused to leave his office for the rest of the day, but it worked out quite well because he ended up collecting the evidence he needed to prove the pills Harry received from the clinic fit his theory on the cause of the magic core separation. He sent the results off to Macmillan, since he’d be avoiding dealing with Harry as much as possible in the future. When he went home that night, he sent an owl to Pansy asking if there was any possibility that she could get a last minute international floo. He didn’t think he’d make it through this week without some moral support.

 

∞

 

Forget about the war, Thursday 1stSeptember was shaping up to be the worst day of Draco’s life. He stood on Platform 9 ¾ for the first time since the beginning of his seventh year of school. There were kids everywhere, shouting between carriages, pushing and shoving to get their luggage on as quickly as possible and finding someone to spend their first train journey with. There were parents laughing and crying, some doing so at exactly the same time.

         Draco was on edge from the minute he stepped through the barrier. He’d taken a double dose of his potion, against his better judgement, and could only hope that he would hold up long enough for the train to leave before he had his inevitable breakdown. Pansy, god bless her terrifying soul, was waiting at his flat for him. She hadn’t hesitated when he’d ask her to come and he would forever be grateful for her.

         He spotted Harry and Teddy loading Teddy’s trunk onto the train. He was clutching onto the owl Draco had bought him from Eeyelops which Teddy had named Eltanin because it was the brightest star in the Draco constellation. He’d been ecstatic when Draco had bought him the eagle owl and hadn’t stopped talking about him since. Draco was just glad he’d have a well-bred owl that wouldn’t drop his letters in the river like Draco’s first ever owl had.

         Draco could tell that Teddy wasn’t faring much better than himself. His hair was a dull shade of brown instead of the turquoise it usually was, or even the bubble-gum shade of pink it sometimes turned when he was overexcited. Draco took a deep breath as he approached but didn’t have as much time as he’d have liked to compose himself because Teddy had clocked him and launched himself into Draco’s arms. Draco clutched him as close to his chest as physically possible without Teddy crawling inside him and resisted the urge to cry his heart out.

         ‘Hey little wolf.’ Draco said, his voice scratchy. He glanced over Teddy’s shoulder to see Harry standing there holding Eltanin’s cage, a conflicted look on his face. Draco supposed it was a mix between the hatred he was feeling towards Draco mixed with the empathy he felt at the fact this this was a tough day for the both of them.

         ‘I don’t wanna go.’ Teddy said into Draco’s shoulder and he was sure he had an actual pain in his heart. He wanted to tell Teddy that Draco didn’t want him to go either, but this was the most important day of Teddy’s life so far and all issues aside, Teddy needed Harry and Draco to be there for him today.

         ‘I know sweetheart, but I promise you you’ll have a great time. You can owl me, or your dad whenever you want.’ He let Teddy down again and he looked up with watery eyes that made Draco’s chest ache terribly. Teddy walked back over to Harry and Draco reluctantly followed. It appeared that Harry wasn’t going to acknowledge their issues today and Draco was glad that they could pretend to be mature adults at the very least for Teddy’s sake.

         ‘You sure you’ve got everything, bud?’ Harry asked him. Teddy nodded seriously.

         ‘Yes.’ He said proudly, puffing out his skinny chest. ‘I checked three times. Twice last night and once this morning.’ Draco felt a stab in his chest knowing Harry got to spend Teddy’s last night with him while Draco drank a whole bottle of chateauneuf du pape and cried watching _The Parent Trap_.

         ‘Good. Remember what we talked about?’ Harry asked him. Teddy nodded.

         ‘You and Da-Draco will love me no matter what house I’m in, but if there’s a house I really want to be in the Sorting Hat will take it into account.’ Teddy parroted.

         ‘You really said that?’ Draco asked Harry. A glimmer of warmth flooding through him that Harry included Draco when he’d told Teddy that.

         ‘Of course.’ Harry said stiffly, not looking at Draco. Draco supposed he should take what he could get.

         ‘You’d best get on the train Ted, it’ll be leaving soon.’ Draco told him. He plastered a fake smile on his face and blocked out the voices that were beginning to sound in his head. The noise of the crowd was getting louder and parents fought to shout at the kids who’d already got on the train.

         ‘Family hug?’ Teddy asked, looking hopefully between Harry and Draco. Draco’s insides squeezed uncomfortably, and he looked to Harry for a clue as to what to do next. Harry glanced sideways at him and shrugged a shoulder almost imperceptibly. _Fuck it_ , Draco thought, _this is Teddy’s day not ours_.

         ‘Of course, Ted.’ Draco said a little nervously. Thankfully, Harry took over and pulled both Draco and Teddy towards him. Draco felt Teddy’s skinny little arm cling onto his waist while Harry’s stronger grip pulled across his shoulders. Draco held onto Teddy tightly and rested his chin on Harry’s shoulder. It was a blatant attempt at seeking comfort and he knew as soon as Teddy had left Harry would go off on one at him, but Draco didn’t care in that moment. This wasn’t how he’d hoped this day would go and if he could tell himself even for a second that they were still a happy family, he’d take it.

         Draco was the first to pull away, trying his best not to get overwhelmed.

         ‘I love you.’ Teddy said, looking up at them with a smile.

         ‘We love you too.’ Harry said, Draco watched as the little crinkles appeared by his eyes as he smiled and Draco memorised his face.

         They ushered Teddy onto the train and Harry handed him Eltanin. Teddy seemed to have forgotten his worries already when he spotted another boy, clearly another first year, who also had an owl. Teddy went straight up to him and started asking him all about his owl and the other boy lit up with excitement. Draco smiled as he watched their exchange and the two boys scrambled into the nearest carriage together. Draco focused on Teddy and keeping his breathing even as he tried to keep his anxiety at bay.

         Teddy’s face reappeared in the train window just at the train doors closed and Draco took in a shaky breath as his eyes welled up with tears. “A Malfoy never cries, and especially not in public.” His father’s voice echoed in his mind.

         ‘Stop that.’ Harry hissed behind his smile as he waved at Teddy. Draco frowned for a split second before he realised he was fidgeting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like a maniac. He stood stock still immediately and Harry shot him a strange look.

         ‘Sorry.’ Draco mumbled. “ _Malfoy’s don’t mumble!”_ His father’s voice came again. ‘Shut up Father!’ Draco whispered.

         ‘Christ, Draco. Will you get your act together? This is important.’ Harry said, turning to Draco. Draco looked at him and came right out with it; they were running out of time.

         ‘Harry, I know I’ve been an absolute shit, but I need you to help me here, for Teddy’s sake, please.’ He begged him. Harry’s expression softened, and he nodded. He reached out and grabbed Draco’s shaking hand, holding it tightly in his own and suddenly Draco felt like he could breathe again.

         ‘Thank you.’ He whispered. Teddy was grinning and waving frantically, and Draco managed to wave him off with a smile that was marginally less forced than he thought it would be. He focused on the feel of Harry’s hand in his own and at the very last second, Harry pulled Draco against his side and wrapped an arm around his waist.

         All in all, it wasn’t the perfect send-off Draco had hoped for, but it was a fair amount better than he expected and as Teddy’s smiling little face disappeared into the distance, Draco held onto Harry with every fibre of his being.

         Even after the train disappeared, Harry kept holding onto Draco. Draco wanted desperately to say something, but he didn’t want to break the spell and remind Harry that he hated Draco. He knew he’d been an arse and he didn’t deserve for Harry to be even fake nice to him, but he was selfish, and he wanted it.

         ‘I can’t believe he’s gone to Hogwarts.’ Harry said disbelievingly.

         ‘I know.’ Draco croaked hoarsely.

         ‘What was all that?’ Harry asked him. He loosened his grip on Draco’s waist and Draco’s heart dropped, but he didn’t pull away fully.

         ‘Harry, look, there’s a lot I need to tell you and it’s been a long time coming. I just don’t think I can do this today. With Ted going away and the fight we had and everything else I’ve got going on, it’s just too much right now. If you can just stop hating me long enough to let me get used to Teddy going, I promise I’ll tell you everything.’ He was rambling terribly, but he was finally done keeping secrets and finally done lying and Harry really did deserve to know the truth about it all, from beginning to end.

         ‘I can respect that, Draco.’ Harry said gently and Draco nearly fell apart. ‘For the record, I don’t think there’s anything you could do that could make me hate you.’ It didn’t seem to matter what happened, Harry always had the capacity for forgiveness.

         For once in who knew how long, Harry and Draco departed from King’s Cross Station as awkward and tentative friends. It was more than Draco could ask for, and far more than he deserved, but his grief at saying goodbye to his little wolf until Christmas was dulled just a little bit by the hope that he was finally about to be a mature adult and confront his relationship with his ex-husband.

 

∞

 

‘We’re going out.’ Pansy said later that night when Draco’s mood hadn’t lifted all day.

         ‘Why?’ Draco said. He was curled up on the sofa hugging a cushion against his chest.

         ‘Because you’re absolutely miserable and I’m sick of looking at your stupid face.’ She said bluntly.

         ‘I see.’ Draco sighed. ‘And where exactly are you planning on taking me?’ He asked, although he wasn’t going to agree to go anyway.

         ‘Out. To a club. You need it.’ Draco rolled his eyes.

         ‘I don’t need to get laid, Pansy.’ He moaned, he knew exactly what she was thinking.

         ‘Yes, you do. Have you even slept with anyone since Harry?’ Draco shot her a death glare.

         ‘Of course I have Pansy, you utter tit.’ He said angrily. There had been a string of one-night stands in the earliest months of his divorce which he’d somehow managed to hide from everyone he knew. It had been fun at first, lowering his inhibitions and forgetting about everything for a while. The company staved of the loneliness and helped him relieve tension. After a while though, he woke up feeling even emptier than he had before. He never brought anyone to his own flat; it was much easier to sneak out of someone else’s bed in the early hours of the morning.

         He really didn’t feel like going to all that effort today.

         ‘Come on, Draco. You need to do something, and I didn’t take an expensive international portkey just to sit here and watch you mope like a child even younger than Teddy.’  She told him firmly. Sometimes Draco really hated Pansy, but he had to give the woman credit, she was always strangely motivating.

         ‘You know what? Fuck it. Let’s go.’ He said decisively.

 

And that is how Draco found himself in a muggle nightclub on a Thursday night.

 

         The music was terrible and far too loud, and Draco had a buzzing in his ears that made it difficult to concentrate so he kept downing shots of Tequila until the lights blurred and he couldn’t tell his arse from his elbow. He’d lost Pansy who knows how long ago but he didn’t much care because he was having a great time. At least, he thought he was.

         He was dancing with a faceless man who was supposed to be incredibly beautiful, but Draco couldn’t really see his face properly anymore. He had amazing dark hair, was wearing the tightest jeans Draco had ever seen – which left _very_ little to the imagination – and smelled like heaven and Draco would be damned if he didn’t go home with this guy.

         The man, Draco had already forgotten his name, was leaving an indecent amount of lovebites all over his neck and collar and whilst Draco had always found it horrifically tacky, he secretly revelled in the idea of showing up to work tomorrow and parading his marked skin in front of Harry. A sober Draco would’ve felt like a pathetic little worm for thinking such manipulative things, but drunk Draco had no such qualms. He pulled the stranger close to him and didn’t object when he felt his hands groping at his arse. If getting laid was what Pansy wanted him to do, then that’s exactly what he would do.

         He could feel sweat trickling down his neck and for a moment he wished he was in a wizard club, so he could cast a cooling charm. Then he realised he was so smashed that even if he could get his wand out – Draco snorted aloud at that – he wouldn’t be in any state to cast a charm effectively.

         ‘Come back to mine.’ The man whispered in his ear. Draco grinned despite the fact he couldn’t even see where he was going. He nodded, and the man dragged him off the dancefloor and out of the club. Draco couldn’t remember how he got from the club to the man’s house and he could’ve sworn he’d been outside the club one minute and a blink later he wasn’t.

         They stumbled to the man’s room, dropping items of clothing throughout the house as they went, and Draco found he really didn’t give a shit about much else anymore. Why had he gone out in the first place? He really couldn’t remember. All he knew was that this stranger knew all the right things to say and all the right things to do, as if he could read Draco’s mind and it was absolutely thrilling. As they tumbled into bed together, Draco didn’t have a care in the world.

 

Draco stirred groggily the next morning. His head felt like a heard of Hippogriffs had trampled straight through it and he knew he was in deep shit. There was a warm weight pressed against his back and an arm slung over his waist. After every one-night stand Draco had ever had, he’d never woken up quite like this. Yes, there was often an arm slung over his waist, but it was lifeless and haphazard. This one held him tightly to the body behind him and he could feel a hand splayed over his stomach. Yes, he often woke up tangled with the person whose attention he’d caught the night before, but it was always half turned away from him. This body was pressed hard against his back, like it was desperately trying to cocoon him. He could feel hot, even breaths coasting across the side of his neck and his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Whoever this stranger was, they held him like he really mattered.

He couldn’t remember a thing from the night before. He’d been at a muggle club. Ok, he’d never slept with a muggle before, so it couldn’t have been a one night stand repeated. He’d gone out with Pansy. That meant that he’d probably gone to a club he’d never been to either. He’d been to a muggle club before but been too afraid to sleep with a muggle in case in his drunken haze he slipped up and used some form of magic. He couldn’t figure out what was bugging him about the whole thing.

He turned over as slowly and carefully as he could possibly do so, not knowing if his bed partner was a heavy or light sleeper. Normally, he’d have gotten straight out of bed, collected his things and gone, without a second look. This was different; he was hurting from saying his goodbyes the day before, and he’d be so alone when he left that he just wanted to soak in this feeling, even if it was fake affection. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight he saw.

Because, as Draco turned over, the sleeping face of his ex-husband was on the pillow, right next to his. It had been so long since Draco had been lucky enough to witness this that he couldn’t even be angry. The air was knocked out of his lungs as he took in the sight before him.

Harry’s skin was a light shade of gold. It wasn’t dark, not at all, but compared to Draco’s own porcelain skin, Harry always looked so warm. He was still sporting that designer stubble Draco was beginning to love on him, and had the circumstances been different, nothing would’ve stopped Draco from nipping and biting his way along Harry’s sharp, cut-from-marble jawline.

Draco’s eyes roamed across Harry’s open and sleeping face. He ran a finger lightly down his strong, straight nose and across his smooth cheek. Draco’s heart swelled with both gratitude and sadness. He thought about all the times he’d woken up to this and never appreciated it, how grateful he was that he’d get one more chance to do it now. But there was also a sadness, that this would be the last time.

He ran a hand through Harry’s hair and marvelled at how soft it always was despite looking coarse and messy all the time. He’d always loved playing with Harry’s hair when they’d been together, both in and out of the bedroom. They’d lounge on their sofa many an evening, Harry with his head in Draco’s lap as Draco carded long fingers through the raven strands. The ache in Draco’s chest grew.

And then there were Harry’s eyelashes. Long and thick and fluttering against the tops of his cheeks as dreamed. Harry had beautiful eyes even when they were closed, and Draco missed the way they used to look at him like he was the only thing in the world so much, that he could hardly look Harry in the eye at all now.

It seemed Harry could feel Draco’s hand skimming lightly through his hair because he unconsciously pulled Draco closer and nuzzled his face into Draco’s neck just like he had when they were married. Draco’s heart was ready to explode with need and want, but then the spell was broken.

‘Draco…’ Harry muttered in his sleep. Reality struck.

 

And that was how, in the fourth month of Draco’s agreement with Hermione Granger-Weasley, Draco Malfoy woke up in bed with Harry Potter.

 

_Fuck_.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco felt as though he’d been dumped head first into an icy plunge pool. A chill spread through every inch of his body and a tight knot formed in his sternum which somehow managed to make him feel sick and unable to breath at the same time.

            How? How could he have possibly been so drunk that he couldn’t recognise his own ex-husband? What was Harry even doing at a muggle club, didn’t he have Leggy-Blonde?

            Draco was utterly shell-shocked as he slid out of the bed and stood in the middle of his old bedroom wondering whether he should run away now or stay and face the consequences. He always left after a one-night stand. But then, his one-night stands weren’t Harry. If he left now, he could be at work before Harry woke up and Harry would just assume that his random shag just disappeared. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember bringing anyone home at all. How drunk had Harry been anyway? Draco wasn’t sure.

            On the other hand, if he stayed, there’s no way he could put their talk off any longer. That could be a good thing. He could get it all of his chest and then he’d be ready to move. He was still waiting to hear back from the jobs he’d applied for, but he was totally ready to go as soon as the case was closed.

            No. He realised that would be a stupid idea. He hadn’t had a dose since before he went out the night before and he’d never make it through a conversation like that without one. He couldn’t quite bring himself to move though. He used to love watching Harry sleep, like he sometimes watched Teddy now. Harry was a strong and independent person when he was awake, but when he slept there was a kind of vulnerability about him that reminded Draco that Harry wasn’t a perfect hero, he was just a man like Draco.

            Harry’s hair was a knotted mess all over the pillow and Draco desperately wanted to run his fingers through it once more. He daren’t though, since he knew how much of a light sleeper Harry was. Harry was pouting in his sleep and his eyelashes were fluttering as he dreamed and if Draco wasn’t absolutely terrified of his current situation, he’d think it was the most adorable sight in the world.

            He decided it would be best for him to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible, so he turned tails as quietly as possible and tiptoed his way back through the house, collecting his abandoned clothes on his way. In a twisted way, it was good that this had once been his own house because it wasn’t quite so awkward making it all the way to the stairs before finding his discarded underwear.

            By the time he’d made it to the open plan kitchen-living room, all Draco’s idea of course, he’d managed to collect his scattered belongings. He was looking around for his wand, which he must’ve dropped somewhere along the way, when a lone picture frame caught his eye. He walked over to the side table next to the sofa he had been adamant was worth the small fortune it cost and picked up a silver-guilt frame he’d never seen before. He turned the photo around and gasped when he realised that it was a photo of him he’d never known had been taken.

            It was taken not long after his small stint in Azkaban. He could tell because he looked painfully thin; his cheeks sunken and his skin almost translucent, even his hair was dull and dry.

            You’d never know that from the photo though. He watched as his sullen expression dissipated as Harry ran up behind him and attacked him around the waist. His miserable faraway look melted into a broad grin and he turned his head to the side to see Harry’s chin hook over his shoulder. They grinned like maniacs at each other and then the loop reset.

            He turned, his shirt still clutched in his hand and found Harry standing there with his wand pointing right at Draco’s naked chest. Draco dropped the photo which smashed and scatter glass everywhere, a shard of which bounced off the floor and wedged itself in Draco’s forearm as he tried to catch the frame before it hit the floor.

            ‘Shit!’ He hissed as he felt a sharp pain and bloody began running down his arm.

            ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Harry barked at him. He was wearing nothing but his underwear, he had total bed hair and Draco was finding it very difficult to take him seriously, even though he knew Harry could destroy him in the blink of an eye.

            ‘Surprise?’ Draco said weakly. He finally spotted his wand; hidden in plain sight on the kitchen counter. He walked past Harry and picked it up. He knew a decent amount of healing charms, so he began to levitate fragments of glass from his arm.

            He jumped when Harry gripped his wrist and took his wand out of his hand. He was about to panic when Harry said,

            ‘Here. Let me. You’re shaking.’ He held onto Draco’s hand to steady his arm and took over what Draco had started. ‘I take it it was you I managed to bring home last night.’ He said, not looking up from Draco’s arm. ‘Did we…?’ He trailed off awkwardly. Draco wasn’t sure why Harry was quite so bashful, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t slept together before. Yes, it wasn’t the wisest decision Draco had ever made, but he’d rather have had a one-night stand with Harry than a stranger. Judging by the familiar ache Draco had, and the fact he’d been completely starkers when he woke up, there was no question in his mind what they’d done.

            ‘Um, yes, I’m fairly confident we did,’ he said. Harry’s awkwardness rubbing off on him. That was a highly unfortunate choice of words considering the circumstances. ‘About that-’ He began.

            ‘No, I’m glad it was you.’ Harry said like that wasn’t a big deal. Draco’s heart stuttered, and his brain frantically tried to figure out whether he should ask him why. ‘I didn’t really want to take anyone home, I don’t make a habit of sleeping with strangers.’ Oh. So he was just glad Draco had stopped him from potentially catching some muggle disease.

            ‘I see.’ Draco said. He winced as Harry took out the largest and most painful shard of glass.

            ‘Sorry. That must hurt.’ Harry was sympathetic, and it made Draco’s insides squeeze horribly.

            ‘It’s fine.’ He didn’t want Harry to worry about him for no reason, even though it really did hurt a lot. Draco watched as Harry healed his wound and cast a tergeo on the blood that was already drying. Draco remembered a time when he wouldn’t let Harry anywhere near his left arm for fear he’d remind him about his mark and run off. How the times had changed.

            ‘Good as new.’ Harry said with a smile. An awkward silence descended as they both seemed to realise the situation they were in.

            ‘This might well be the most awkward thing that’s ever happened to me.’ Draco admitted. Harry finally let go and wandered over to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Most likely just for something to do. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.’ Draco said. They’d come to a tentative truce the day before and Draco didn’t want it to be ruined. Harry sighed deeply, and his shoulders slumped as he leant against the bench.

            ‘Draco. Please. Just stop apologising.’ Harry said tiredly.

            ‘I don’t know what else to do.’ He fidgeted nervously. He didn’t know if he should sit down or not, but then he watched as Harry pulled two mugs out of the cupboard and he realised he wanted him to stay.

            ‘Apparently.’ Harry said angrily. Draco was getting really sick and tired of Harry’s temper.

            ‘Look. Harry. I’m not going to sit here while you throw shade at me and complain. If we’re going to talk then fine, but I can’t do it right now. I need to get home and-’

            ‘And take one of your FUCKING POTIONS.’ Harry yelled. He slammed the second mug down on the counter so hard it cracked straight up the middle. Draco flinched.

            ‘Harry I-’

            ‘Stay there.’ He said sternly and walked out of the room. Draco’s heart rate picked up and his fingers started twitching. He felt like an eleven-year-old boy in detention with Hagrid all over again.

            Draco was just about to go running after Harry when he returned. He marched right up to the counter Draco was standing next to and put a vial of yellow potion down in the middle with a bit too much force. The contents splashed up against the seal and Draco watched anxiously as the surface rippled as the level settled.

            Harry had already turned away and gone back to making tea. Draco realised that Harry remembered Draco didn’t drink coffee first thing in the morning because it gave him a caffeine crash too early in the day.

            Harry turned back and set both mugs on the counter before motioning to the potion.

            ‘Take it.’ He said coldly.

            ‘Where did you get this.’ Draco asked him lowly.

            ‘I took it. From your flat. That day you weren’t well.’ Harry said nonchalantly as if it didn’t matter at all.

            ‘You stole from me.’ Draco said flatly. He was furious. Did Harry have any idea how many days he’d set Draco back because he’d been a dose short.

            ‘I didn’t steal. I borrowed.’

            ‘Oh!’ Draco forced a hideously cold laugh. ‘Is that what you did? And I suppose all those criminals you put behind bars were just _borrowing_ those illegal potions ingredients and just _borrowing_ ancient magical artefacts, were they? Oh right, you’ve been Mister Hot-Shot Head Auror for so long you probably don’t remember such _lowly_ people. Especially since the rules, such as GETTING A WARRANT, don’t apply to you!’ Draco had never been so angry in his life. He’d spent an entire weekend not eating or sleeping or showering because he’d had an attack and didn’t have the right amount of potion. Yes, his new batch was ready a day later but by then he’d relapsed.

            ‘What the hell is your problem? Every time I try and find out what’s going on with you, you start attacking me like I’m some sort of social pariah!’ Harry yelled at him. Oh shit. Draco hadn’t meant to set him off, he always ran his mouth and then couldn’t handle the consequences.

            ‘Harry, please, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that. It’s just, that’s not fair. You can’t walk into my flat and take my stuff and think that’s ok.’ Draco would discuss this like the adults they were, not the children they behaved like.

            ‘If you weren’t lying to me and hiding things from me, maybe I wouldn’t have to resort to desperate measures.’ Harry growled. Anxiety crept up Draco’s spine and sat heavily on his shoulders.

            ‘That’s not fair I-’ Draco cut himself off. He didn’t even know what to say. It was true, he’d lied to Harry for a long time, but that didn’t justify Harry thinking Draco owed him an explanation.

            ‘Take it.’ Harry said, gesturing to the potion once again. ‘Go on.’ Draco’s mind was fogging again. He didn’t like to be put on the spot. He slid onto one of the stools at the breakfast counter before it became obvious he was crumbling again. He wouldn’t be weak, he wouldn’t. He was a grown man, he would not be reduced to a snivelling child just because someone shouted at him.

            ‘No.’ He said quietly, forcing his breathing to remain steady.

            ‘So it is drugs. You’re disgusting. Do you have any idea how disgraceful it is to be on this stuff when you’re looking after our son?! How dare you? Where did you even get this stuff. If I’ve brought you in on an official Ministry case whilst you’ve been off cavorting with dark wizards I swear to God I’ll-’

            ‘Stop Harry. You need to stop.’ Draco was shallow breathing and the further Harry’s voice rose, the worse the buzzing in his ears was getting.

            ‘No! I won’t stop! This is unbelievable. I can’t believe you fucking lied to me. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore and I-’

            ‘IT’S FUCKING MEDICATION!’ Draco screamed. Harry stopped mid-rant and stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

            ‘What.’ He said breathlessly, but Draco couldn’t answer him. He was already desperately trying to get air into his lungs, but he couldn’t remember what to do. He gaped at Harry who was looking at him worriedly. ‘Draco? What’s going on?’ Draco scrabbled for the vial on the counter although it was probably useless by now. His lungs were screaming for air, but he couldn’t make them work. What was breathing again? Panic was clawing at the inside of his empty chest like a white-hot poker.

            Harry pushed the vial into Draco’s outstretched fingers and Draco desperately tried to pull the stopper off, but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t do it. He heard a sob and he belatedly realised it was his own, but Harry was already taking the vial back out of Draco’s hands again. Draco cried out thinking Harry had changed his mind, but instead Harry tilted Draco’s chin up so that he was forced to look him in the eye.

            ‘Draco. Listen to me. You need to breathe, ok?’ _I CAN’T_ , Draco was screaming inside his mind. _DON’T YOU THINK I WOULD IF I COULD_? ‘Watch me. In…and out, in…and out.’ Harry kept his grip on Draco’s chin as he showed Draco how to take a breath in and let it go again.

            Finally, Draco gasped in a lungful of air. He’d almost relaxed until he realised he couldn’t let it go again, but Harry was still there. ‘In…and out, Draco. You can do this.’ He told him calmly. He released his breath and slowly he tried to find a normal breathing rhythm.

            ‘Ok.’ He breathed.

            ‘Christ, Draco,’ Harry said as he grazed a thumb across Draco’s cheek, ‘you’re scaring me.’ Harry pressed a chaste kiss to Draco’s lips but pulled away again to let Draco’s breathing even out.

            ‘Harry, no.’ Draco pushed him to arm’s length and reached for the potion. He needed to get himself under control. He downed the potion in one and set the vial back down on the counter.

            ‘Draco, darling, please tell me what’s going on. Are you sick?’ Draco couldn’t handle Harry worrying about him, he felt like a cavernous pit of guilt and despair opened up inside him.

            ‘Yes, and no. I’m not dying or anything.’ Draco got up from the stool and staggered over to the sofa. He was feeling light-headed and drained and he needed a better support. He sunk onto the soft cushions of the sofa and wondered how he’d managed to get himself into such a mess at such a young age. He felt like an old man on the inside.

            ‘Ok, then what’s going on?’ Harry asked him. He was watching Draco intently with an expression full of concern and Draco wanted so much to hate him for accusing him of an addiction, for betraying his trust and for stealing from him, but he couldn’t because despite all that, he still loved him.

            ‘You remember when I told you about my Aunt Bella casting the Cruciatus Curse on me during the war?’ Harry nodded.

            ‘Of course I do. Do you still take those potions for your circulation?’ Harry asked him. The Cruciatus had damaged some of Draco’s nerves and he couldn’t regulate his body temperature. It also meant his anxiety caused more physical shaking that it did with most people, although he supposed anxiety affected everyone differently.

            ‘Uh, yes. I make my own now though and I only need one dose a month. No, wait, that’s not the point. The point is, they put my trial back because I wasn’t well.’ If he was going to do this, he wasn’t going to let Harry distract him.

            ‘Draco, I’m your-was your husband. I know this.’ They both winced at the slip and Draco’s heart twisted uncomfortably.

            ‘Right. The thing is, the Wizengamot pretended I had stomach flu but actually, I had...’ He paused, feeling like once he said it Harry would never look at him the same way again.

            ‘You had what?’ Harry pressed. Draco closed his eyes, so he wouldn’t have to see Harry’s reaction, and fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt.

            ‘A psychotic episode.’ He whispered. He bit his lip as it started to tremble, and he wished more than anything that the floor would swallow him whole.

            ‘A-a- a what? You’ve got to be kidding me. Draco, why didn’t you tell me? They shouldn’t even have put you on trial. The ruling doesn’t stand if the council weren’t aware of your medical history.’ Harry became frantic, as if the ruling from the bloody Wizengamot bothered Draco now, it was a decade ago.

            ‘Harry, please. That’s not important right now.’ Draco said. He suddenly felt very tired, as if the adrenaline from his panic attack had left his body all at once.

            ‘Sorry. I’m so sorry. Shit.’ Harry raked a hand through his already messy hair and it stuck up even more. ‘There’s more though, isn’t there?’ He said eventually. Draco nodded.

            ‘Harry you have to understand, I-’ Harry shook his head and Draco cut himself off.

            ‘No Draco, I don’t have to understand anything. I’m sorry for what I put you through, even if I don’t know exactly what it is I did. I want you to know before you tell me anything that I’m sorry either way. You must know by now that I care. Please tell me you know I care about you.’ Draco turned his face into the sofa, the same way Teddy had when Draco had taken him out to Diagon before he went to Hogwarts. He couldn’t look at Harry anymore.

            Harry didn’t like that very much. He pulled Draco into him like he was nothing more than a pile of feathers. Draco was assaulted with the signature cedar and grapefruit of Harry and engulfed in the warmth of his – mostly naked – body heat. Draco wanted to hold onto him for the rest of his life, but he knew that wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t the right thing to do. He’d done the wrong thing enough times to know that now. He had to tell Harry the truth.

            ‘The thing is, that ever since the war, I’ve had this really bad anxiety. Sometimes I can’t leave the house and some days I can’t get out of bed. I forget to eat, and I can’t always sleep and sometimes there really isn’t any good reason why. Before you start shouting at me, I didn’t tell you because you were struggling with your nightmares and your excess magic and I felt so awful dumping all my problems on you too.’

            Harry opened his mouth to cut in, but Draco wouldn’t let him interrupt him now that he had started. Harry’s grip on him tightened and Draco buried his face into his shoulder before he told him the one thing he’d never told anyone else before. He knew that telling him wouldn’t fix what had broken, but if he could keep this feeling for a little longer, then nothing on earth would stop him. Harry might have been a bit of a rubbish husband, but he was a good man.

            ‘I didn’t feel like I deserved you. Everywhere we went people would look at me that way, I know you know what I mean, and it didn’t matter that I knew they were wrong about me, I just knew that you could do way better than me and it wasn’t fair that you had to deal with that every time we tried to go somewhere just because of me.’ Draco refused to look anywhere near Harry throughout his little speech. He scrunched his eyes tight shut, even though the only view he had was of Harry’s bare shoulder. He felt completely exposed, and not just because of the copious skin on skin contact.

            ‘But Draco I don’t understand. If you were worried about that, why didn’t you just tell me? The whole point of a marriage is you share all of that with each other. I got over my nightmares and I got my accidental magic under control long before the divorce. You kept staying at work late and spending all your time in your lab and every time I tried to ask you about it you gave me bullshit excuses. Is that what those potions are about? What about Teddy, does he know about this? Have you had an episode in front of him?’

            ‘Harry, please,’ Draco’s voice wobbled, ‘not so many questions at the same time. I’m having really bad time being around you all the time and Teddy leaving.’ Draco jumped as Harry unwound his arms enough to take both of Draco’s hands in his own.

            ‘Draco.’ Draco refused to open his eyes. ‘Draco please look at me.’ Draco didn’t want to. He shook his head like a petulant child and pressed his lips together to stop himself crying. ‘Draco, come on. I’m on your side here.’ Draco took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

            He was blown away by how much Harry’s eyes glittered in the morning brightness. The beams of sunlight cast an extra shadow across his jawline. His skin was still as perfect as ever and Draco ached with how much he missed him, even though he was right in front of him.

            ‘I promise nothing ever happened with Teddy. I’m just on edge because he went to Hogwarts. He doesn’t know a thing I swear. Please don’t take him from me.’

            ‘Draco don’t be silly.’ He held Draco’s face in his hands and Draco felt like he could float away. ‘Listen to me now. I would never do that. I shouldn’t have threatened you with Teddy I’m really sorry.’ He said earnestly.

            ‘I didn’t mean to lie so much, honestly,’ Draco began. ‘I stopped seeing my healer when the potions stopped working and I was using the labs at work to develop my own anti-anxiety solution. I kept having to stay late because I couldn’t do it during office hours and I didn’t want you finding it in the house. I shouldn’t have lied, it was a terrible idea, but I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t love you because I do love you. Did love you.’ He corrected himself quickly, but it wasn’t quick enough.

            ‘It’s ok, I love you too.’ Draco’s breath hitched. He didn’t know what to say to that. This was so much worse than he thought it would be. He loved Harry and Harry loved him, but Draco lied through his teeth about his issues and Harry went behind Draco’s back and accused him of a potions addiction. God, this was such a mess and now that Teddy had gone to Hogwarts, there was nothing distracting them from their own issues.

            Draco realised how stupid he was to be telling Harry all of this now, now that everything had already fallen apart. He should never have accepted Kingsley’s offer to consult with the Ministry, he should never have made a deal with Hermione to stay for six months before moving, he should never have told Teddy he would be there when he came back from school.

            He realised he’d been rocking himself back and forth like a nutter as he’d disappeared inside his own mind.

‘It’s ok Draco. I understand. We’ll get through this.’ _We,_ Draco thought. _He said we._ Draco wasn’t entirely sure he was ok with the implications of that. As far as he was concerned, he was still going to be leaving in the next few months.

It was unfair, and it was selfish, and Draco would be back to his familiar self-loathing when it was done, but when Harry reached out and pulled Draco into him, he let him hold him because if Draco was honest, he was tired of this. He was tired of the lies and the games and the misunderstandings and he really missed his husband. Eventually, Draco fell into an uneasy sleep in Harry’s arms for the first time in three years. Neither of them made it into work that day, and somehow, none of their friends were surprised.


	9. Chapter 9

Draco refused Harry’s offer to stay at the house that weekend. Draco understood that it was hard for either of them to accept that they wouldn’t be seeing Teddy until late December, but his confession didn’t undo the past three years. No, Draco and Harry, however much they still cared for each other, needed to understand themselves before they could go about understanding each other.

            Draco didn’t leave his flat the whole weekend. He ignored floo calls from Hermione and Pansy, and even one from Luna whom Draco assumed had been put up to it by one of the other two – maybe even both. He stayed in bed and drifted in and out of sleep all through Saturday and Sunday, to the point where on Sunday he was disorientated, and his body clock was completely off. He knew it was bad for him, especially considering now was a time when he should be trying very hard to keep himself functional, but he was battered and bruised, and he needed time to mope.

            When Monday morning loomed, Draco dragged himself out of his hovel and into the Ministry, with little hope of achieving anything remotely useful. Instead of going to his small office, Draco headed straight up to see the Minister’s secretary who was fully prepared for an argument when the minister himself appeared.

            ‘Mr Malfoy.’ Kingsley said, looking surprised. Once he took in Draco’s dishevelled appearance, something absolutely unheard of, his expression changed to a serious one.

            ‘Push my day back by fifteen minutes. This is important.’ He said to her. She was less than impressed, but didn’t dare question him, and began scrabbling around for random pieces of parchment. Draco knew she wouldn’t last the year out, she was clearly far too poorly organised for such a position.

            ‘I apologise for dropping in on you like this, sir.’ Draco said formally. As the door to Kingsley’s office closed, all attempts at formality were dropped.

            ‘Malfoy, if this is too much for you, I’m more than happy to terminate your contract.’ Kinglsey said severely as he sat down at his desk.

            ‘How did you-’

            ‘Draco, I knew from the minute I drew up the agreement and found you’re still listed on the magical register as Draco L. Potter.’ Kingsley said simply.

            ‘You didn’t tell Harry, did you?’ Draco asked him. That was the last thing he needed.

            ‘No, I did not. I assumed that since Harry has been referring to you as Malfoy, he is also unaware of this.’

            ‘Yes. I know it looks bad, but I just never got around to changing it back. You have to understand, with my family history-’

            ‘Draco my boy, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I understand. Even if I didn’t, you don’t owe me an explanation just because I’m the Minister for Magic. You’re entitled to your privacy. Now, as for your current state, is there anything you’d like me to know?’ Kingsley fixed Draco with a knowing look and Draco understood why Kingsley had been such a formidable Auror.

            ‘I want to make it clear that I have no problem with Head Auror Potter. He has only ever been kind and professional whilst I’ve been here.’ Lies. ‘I have some personal issues I’m currently working through, and I feel it would be best for me to move on. As far as I know, my contract only extended to providing potions expertise and since it doesn’t stipulate any specific hours, I believe I may be called in to consult on an as-and-when basis.’ Draco knew he needn’t have fallen back into professional speech but there was no way he was going to talk about this to the Minister for Magic, however close friends they had once been.

            ‘Of course, Draco. I designed the contract to make it as flexible for you as possible. The immediate danger appears to have passed and I don’t intend to force you to be here if it will damage your health. All I ask is that you remain until the end of the week while I make some arrangements, can you do that?’ Draco hadn’t felt so much relief in a long time.

            ‘Absolutely, Minister.’ He said, feeling just a little bit lighter than he had when he’d arrived.

            ‘Excellent. If I don’t see you again before you go Draco, I’d personally like to thank you for your help. You’ve saved lives here, and it won’t go unnoticed.’ Draco tried his best to ignore the final comment, he refused to be a charity case. Angling personal favours in the right political spheres had been his father’s gag and look how well that had worked out for him.

 

Draco made a point to go to Hermione’s office just before their regular lunchtime catch-up that day. He wanted to go somewhere outside the Ministry so that he could talk to her in relative privacy.

            ‘Draco!’ She greeted him warmly as he entered her office. Unlike Kingsley, Hermione didn’t have a secretary yet, she’d been interviewing since she’d taken on her new role, but no one would never match the standards of the organisational queen that was Hermione Granger-Weasley. She rose to kiss his cheeks as always. ‘I wasn’t expecting you. You’ve not come to cancel our get-together, are you? I’m having a hellish day and I was really quite looking forward to it.’

            ‘I wouldn’t dream of blowing off my hot date!’ He joked. He really had been feeling much better since he’d had his little chat with Kingsley and he figured humour would work as a good distraction from the conversation he didn’t really want to have.

            ‘Hot date. You’re so full of shit, Draco.’ She laughed. It was funny seeing Hermione without the kids around because it was like she made the most of the opportunity to swear. ‘Don’t let Ronald hear you say that.’ She shot him a playful look and he rolled his eyes.

            ‘Trust me Granger, I have no intention of going near _Ronald_ any time soon.’ He emphasised her use of Weasley’s full name for dramatic effect. He was nothing if not committed.

            ‘Yes, yes. You can pretend you hate each other as much as you like but we’ve all seen you bonding over wizards’ chess and don’t you even try to deny it. Now, where are you taking me for lunch? I’m fucking starving.’

 

∞

 

‘Draco, it doesn’t have to be like this.’ Hermione sighed sadly. He’d taken her to a new Italian place not far from the Ministry – muggle – and away from prying eyes and ears.

            ‘I tried, Hermione. I’ve made it four months and nothing’s any different.’ He was frustrated. He’d hoped she’d see the effort he’d gone to and how much it had affected him.

            ‘How isn’t it any different? I know you and Harry had a talk. He wouldn’t tell us what it was about, but he seemed really please you two were making progress. He even thought you might be on your way to being friends again!’ Her poor pasta dish was being massacred by her fork as she took her frustration out on her food.

            ‘Harry talks shit. Since when were we ever friends? I told him the truth about what happened to our marriage and yes, I should have told him long before now, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to start playing happy families. Did he tell you about how he lied to me? How he stole from my flat and accused me of being an addict? How he threatened my relationship with Teddy to try and force a confession out of me? He went full Head Auror on my ass Hermione and that’s not ok. I’m not saying I didn’t deserve it, because I absolutely did, but he’s deluded if he thinks it changes anything at all.’

            ‘Oh. No, he didn’t tell me any of that. He’s been so secretive lately. He keeps flaking out on our arrangements for the most pathetic reasons. Ron started bugging me to find out what was wrong, as if I don’t already have enough to do.’

            ‘Yeah, well, I hear he’s very busy with his new girlfriend these days so that’s probably why. Interesting that he hasn’t brought her to meet you though.’ Draco knew he was shit stirring but really, would he be Draco Malfoy if he didn’t? Oh, wait…

            ‘Stop distracting me. Why are you really so hellbent on leaving Draco, don’t give me any of this “I need a change of scenery” bullshit because you and I both know that’s a lie.’ Sometimes, he really hated Hermione.

            ‘I have to leave because I’m still in love with him.’ He said bluntly. Hermione’s eyes widened, and she leant forwards on her elbows. ‘I’m still in love with him but I don’t see us ever managing to make it work and I want to move far away where I can find someone who’ll love me without all of this messy history. Is that a good enough answer for you?’

            ‘Draco, I- you know what? Fine. I can’t argue with that. It was wrong of me to try and force you to do anything anyway. Just promise me you won’t disappear off the face of the earth? The kids are forever complaining that they never see Uncle Draco anymore.’ Draco felt a pang of guilt at that. It was true, he had hardly seen Granger’s spawn in recent years, he barely had a reason to visit since he was no longer with Harry and he hadn’t wanted to run into him by accident either. Still, he couldn’t expect the kids to understand that.

            ‘Alright fine, I’ll floo call once a month.’ She looked at him incredulously and went to argue. ‘No, Hermione. Take what you’re given.’ She huffed at him but thought better of starting an argument.

            ‘Ok fine,’ she said as she finished her pasta, ‘but if this whole thing blows up in your face, don’t come crying to me.’

            ‘Pfff, as if I would.’ He definitely would.

            Hermione was solemn as they walked back to the Ministry after their lunch and Draco was genuinely sorry to be the cause of her poor mood. If someone had told his teenage self that he would be sorry to cause Hermione Granger pain, he’d have hexed them into the middle of next week. As it was, she’d become one of his closest friends and even though he couldn’t keep up his end of the deal, he appreciated that she cared enough about him to ask him to stay.

            Back in his office he decided on a game plan for his departure. He decided to create a giant pin board, like the ones he’d seen on muggle detective shows, and map out all the evidence and theories he had so far, so that anyone who was working on the case after him would know where he was going with it. On the muggle shows, they usually started with the suspects in the middle and worked their way out but since Draco wasn’t still wholly convinced Harry’s prime suspects were part of the case, he decided to start with the victims, and work his way backwards.

            All in all, it took him two hours to get all of his information out onto the board and in the end it helped him understand his own mind better than he expected it to. He probably looked like a lunatic. He probably was a lunatic; running around his office amongst piles of photographs and scraps of paper. It was an organized mess that somehow represented the inner workings of Draco’s mind and he pieced it all together, bit by bit, until the end result was something that was vaguely understandable to someone living outside Draco’s head.

            He still couldn’t figure out why they couldn’t find any concrete evidence which linked Harry’s suspects to the case. Everything they had was purely circumstantial and despite the fact that Harry seemed convinced the case was sewn up nicely, Draco had a niggling feeling that there was something glaringly obvious missing.

 

When Draco arrived home that evening, he began planning how he would pack his things for his move to France. From his desk he’d sent a Ministry owl to the letting agent and asked them for a bolt-on lease earlier than his current lease started since he knew the apartment was already empty. He didn’t want to start packing before he knew he could go earlier so he contented himself with planning.

            He’d considered getting rid of his current flat after he moved considering he hated the place, but since he’d paid for it outright, it didn’t make sense to sell it just yet. Yes, it would’ve paid for his settling in in France, but if he kept hold of it he could be back when Teddy was home from school with as little disruption as possible. He hadn’t quite worked out what he was going to do about telling Teddy, but he was sure he’d be able to come up with something.

            He was just deciding whether it would be safe to take the family time-turner with him, or to leave it in his Gringotts vault, when the floo flared. He didn’t even have time to register who it was before he was being yanked up by his collar and pressed against the nearest wall.

            ‘What the hell is this?’ A file was shoved directly into his chest and he nearly dropped it as the force of the impact knocked the air out of him. Draco immediately recognised it as his Ministry personnel file. He opened it and on the first page was his basic information and a thankfully updated headshot. It had originally been his Azkaban mugshot, not his finest hour.

            ‘My Ministry file?’ He asked a furious looking Harry. When was this guy ever going to learn that he couldn’t just barge in here without an invitation?

            ‘Obviously.’ Harry spat, sounding scarily like Severus Snape. ‘I was referring to its contents.’ Ah, the penny dropped.

            ‘If you would kindly let go of me, maybe I’ll tell you.’ Draco told him calmly. It seemed Harry hadn’t actually realised he was still pinning Draco to the wall as he shook his head and released his collar. ‘Thanks.’

            ‘Well?’ Harry demanded. Draco tried his best not to roll his eyes at Harry’s impatience.

            ‘Well what?’ Draco said as he flipped through the file, ‘I’m no longer coming into the Ministry for the case. I don’t see why that’s such a big deal, Kings-’

            ‘That’s not what I’m talking about.’ Harry snapped and turned the pages back to Draco’s basic information. Draco couldn’t figure out what was so important that Harry felt the need to barge into his flat after hours and- oh.

            ‘Shit.’ He whispered. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Harry, as Draco’s superior, would have to sign off on Kingsley’s decision. Kingsley however, had been Head Auror before he became Minister, which meant he should’ve absolutely forsee- oh that meddling bastard. No wonder he was so calm about Draco leaving his post.

            ‘Damn right. When exactly did you think you were going to tell me you’re still using my name, _Potter_? Is this all a game to you? Play with my feelings and then what, rob me for all I’m worth? Sell me out? I’m really fucking curious because you can’t possibly have just forgotten about this, Mr _some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter_.’ Draco cringed as Harry quoted his eleven-year-old self back to him. He was such a snotty kid, he couldn’t even deny it.

            ‘I never got ‘round to changing it back.’ He said quietly. Harry scoffed.

            ‘You expect me to believe that? Three years Draco. No one is that busy for that length of time.’

            ‘You obviously already know why I didn’t change it and why I didn’t tell you Harry, why did you even come here?’ This really was getting ridiculous and Draco was done. He wasn’t going to play along anymore.

            ‘I don’t know.’ Harry said defeatedly. That surprised Draco.

            ‘You’ve got to stop being so hot-headed.’ Draco told him. ‘Between the pair of us, Teddy’s going to turn out an absolute headcase.’

            ‘Why can’t we just get along, Draco?’ Harry asked him tiredly, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses.

            ‘Since when did we ever get along?’ It wasn’t like they’d been holding hands and making daisy chains since the day they met. Harry dropped down onto Draco’s lumpy sofa. _Alright, make yourself at home then._

            ‘We were happy for nearly eight years.’ Harry argued stubbornly.

            ‘We’ve known each other eighteen.’ Draco pointed out. Harry sighed.

            ‘See, now we can’t even have a normal conversation without disagreeing. What happened?’

            ‘We made mistakes Harry. We were young and stupid and we both thought we knew best.’ Draco was done blaming either one of them for what went wrong, he was finally ready to move on with his life.

            ‘This isn’t what I wanted for Teddy. He’s already had one set of parents taken from him, he doesn’t need another. I dread to think what would have happened if anything had happened to Molly and Arthur, and I don’t think we’ve been fooling Teddy.’

            ‘What do you mean?’

            ‘He calls you Daddy, you know.’ Draco finally caved and sat on his sofa next to Harry.

            ‘He what?’

            ‘He calls me Dad and you Daddy.’ Harry said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, but Draco felt like his heart would burst.

            ‘No, he doesn’t, he calls me Draco.’ He said cautiously.

            ‘He calls you Draco to your face because he thinks you wouldn’t like it if he tried to call you Daddy. Whenever you’re not around it’s “Daddy said this and Daddy that”, sometimes he calls you ‘other Dad’ – he thinks it’s funny.’ Draco didn’t know what to say.

            ‘I see.’ He said quietly.

            ‘Yeah. Just thought you should know.’ Harry said as he started rubbing his neck awkwardly again. ‘Anyway, I should be going, I have someone-somewhere to be.’ Draco heard the someone. He said nothing.

            ‘Ok.’ He said instead.

            ‘I never did lift those wards, did I?’

            ‘Nope. Don’t worry about it now.’ Draco reassured him.

            ‘Are you sure?’

            ‘I’m sure.’ Draco didn’t tell him he wasn’t going to be living there much longer, he wasn’t ready for another goodbye.

            ‘Well alright then.’ Harry said as he walked over to the floo.

            ‘Oh, and Harry?’ Draco asked as he watched Harry reach for a handful of floo powder.

            ‘Yeah?’ Harry turned his head back to look at Draco.

            ‘Never show up at my home without my permission again.’ Draco’s tone was firm, but Harry grinned anyway.

            ‘Alright.’ And then he was gone.

Draco felt a hell of a lot better about leaving his flat after that. He supposed it was because he had some sort of closure. He could leave knowing everything between him and Harry was out in the open, even if Draco didn’t want to pursue anything.

 

∞

 

A week later, Draco received an unexpected owl. He’d just begun packing his stuff up for his move when an unfamiliar tawny owl started scratching at his window. He hauled himself up from where he’d been sat cross-legged on the floor to let the owl in and was surprised to find an official Gringotts envelope. He hadn’t kept his own owl for a long time and since he didn’t have anything to give the tawny, it bit at his fingers and he yelped. He managed to shoo it back out of the window – trust the goblins to employ the nastiest owls possible.

            He sat down at his kitchen table to open the letter, which seemed far thicker than any letter he’d ever received from Gringotts before. Gringotts never contacted anyone unless to inform them of an inheritance or an outstanding debt to be paid, neither of which applied to Draco. With a strange kind of eagerness, Draco tore apart the wax seal and began reading the almost indecipherable goblin script.

 

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_It has come to the bank’s attention that your loan application was prematurely denied. It appears that you do qualify for a business loan through Gringotts Goblin Bank Inc., and we extend our deepest for any inconvenience caused._

_As a respected and loyal client of the bank, we would like to offer you a reduced interest rate as a gesture of goodwill._

_It has also come to our attention that, owing to the War Reparations Act of 1998, the freezing of inheritance assets has ended after the statutory 10 years. Due to an oversight in our administration centre, it has come to our attention that vault number 726 should have been released as of 2 ndMay 2008. Once again, we offer our sincerest apologies and would like to reassure you that all parties involved have been dealt with accordingly as per the internal protocol of the bank._

_Please do not hesitate to contact your nearest Gringotts bank with any enquiries you may have._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Lozk Gringott_

_Head Goblin of Gringotts Wizarding Bank_

Draco was blown away. He knew the decision had been unfair, but once the goblins made their choice, no force on earth could usually sway them. Included in the envelope, were the deeds to the Malfoy property in France. Draco hadn’t realised that his father had already transferred ownership to Draco by the time of his arrest. Of course, Draco shouldn’t have been surprised – Lucius had always been ruthless and calculating when it came to the Malfoy Estate. Vault 726 was the vault his father had set up for him when he was a child. It was customary in pureblood families to do so as although Draco was already set to inherit the Estate as the sole heir, it was assumed that the money would be used to keep his bride until such time that it was necessary for him to take over.

            That obviously hadn’t been applicable in Draco’s case.

Nevertheless, Draco had long since assumed that all of that had been taken by the Ministry during his trial. He had no idea he had any assets to be frozen at the time. This certainly changed his plans for his move to France.

            Still, and call it his inner Slytherin cunning, he was sure this wasn’t a coincidence. Someone, maybe at the bank, maybe someone who knew something about Draco’s situation, wanted him to leave as soon as possible. _Probably Harry,_ he thought when he went over their last conversation. There was nothing left to say between then, and although Harry knew nothing of his plans to move to Paris, Draco was sure he’d be more than happy to get Draco out of the way now that their somewhat tenuous arrangement was no longer necessary.


	10. Chapter 10

In the fifth month of Draco’s not-deal with Hermione, he moved to the outskirts of Paris. It was a strange transition, because he hadn’t expected to be making trips back and forth between his rented flat and a bloody chateau. Perhaps he’d been a bit premature with his move, but he used the first month in France to get the family estate in a liveable condition.

            It took him the first five days to detangle the wards surrounding the chateau. His father had been careful to hold onto the less well known of the family properties, which was probably a wise decision as they’d be less traceable. Draco had never been to this one, and he could tell by the confused state of the wards that no one had been there in his parents’ lifetime either. As far as he could tell, the house didn’t recognise the Black blood in him and wouldn’t let him through. It wasn’t the end of the world, as he was still a Malfoy and he could reset the wards, but it was complicated and tiresome magic and he only had the strength to break through one ward a day.

            It worked out quite well for him, as that meant he could spend his days searching the streets of wizarding Paris for a suitable lot for the apothecary he wanted to open and navigating his way around the city finding the best fresh markets and bakeries and coffee houses. Then, in the evenings, he’d apparate to the chateau and work on the wards. It was gruelling; Draco hadn’t done so much complex wandwork since the war, and he stumbled into bed in the early hours of the morning and fell straight to sleep. The physical exercise and the proper use of his magic was doing wonders for Draco’s anxiety, and he’d cut down on his potion doses from two a day to just one with his breakfast. He missed Teddy terribly, but he hoped his lack of encounters with Eltanin meant Teddy was settling in well at Hogwarts. Draco had infuriated his mother when he’d forgotten to owl her at all during his first term, so he did his best to understand.

            Today he wasn’t going to the chateau until later in the evening, so he had some time to himself during the day. He had no more listings to check out since he’d looked all around the area and not seen anything which had caught his eye. He wondered, briefly, if any shop would be what he wanted. He’d seen over two dozen places so far and they all seemed to lack the necessary atmosphere he wanted. He pulled out the file he’d made of all the potential places for his apothecary and perused the ones he’d already dismissed. There had been one quaint little place, on _la Rue Saint Julien le Pauvre_ which was just around the corner from Draco’s favourite quirky bookshop on _la Rue de la Bûcherie._ He’d hesitated because the store would be very close to some of the muggle hotels which lined the Seine. It was so close to the beautiful church of Saint Julien and from the street corner he’d have a view of Notre-Dame and he wondered why he’d been so hesitant before, maybe it was because he was scared of creating too many roots here.

            He decided he’d make the trip over, without the letting agent, so he could see the place more objectively, imagine what it might be like to approach as a customer rather than an owner. He didn’t make it far however, since the heavens opened and forced Draco back inside. He could do that another day he supposed – it wasn’t worth wading through such heavy rain. Instead, he spent most of the day tuck up under a blanket with a book he’d bought at said bookshop. He knew he would have to go out to the chateau later, so he figured he may as well let this trip slide in the hopes the rain would clear later.

 

∞

 

            The Autumn was perishing in Paris. Draco grabbed the thick woollen cloak he’d last used as part of his disguise in that strange London clinic. He jumped as he heard a clatter and he looked down to find the bottle of pills Harry had been given when they’d gone. That was strange, he could’ve sworn he’d checked them in as evidence. He looked at the bottle and noticed some of them were missing, which were probably the ones he’d had sent to the lab for testing. He slipped them back into his robe pocket and made a mental note to owl them to the Ministry the next day after he’d bought himself a new night flying friend. He’d finally decided he had enough money to bother investing in a new owl.

            He glanced at his watch and realised he was going to be late. Last night he’d finally managed to break through the last ward and would be stepping inside the chateau for the first time. He’d asked Pansy to accompany him in case he came across anything untoward. He tugged his cloak further around himself as the chill of the evening stung his cheeks. He’d started a new routine since he’d moved which meant he walked down to the nearest park before apparating to his chosen destination, to get some fresh air in his lungs on days he was stuck indoors. He’d found an interesting article in a French _journal de psychologie et sciences de la vie_ which said physical exercise was good for mental health issues. He’d also been testing out his circulation potion against the new weather conditions. A tingling in his palms and a slight pain in his right wrist told him the formula wasn’t quite right yet.

            Pansy, to his surprise, looked positively thrilled to see him as he arrived outside the chateau. He supposed that was more likely to do with the bitter cold than her enthusiasm over seeing him. He was even more surprised to find she hadn’t come alone.

            ‘Well, well, look who we have here!’ Draco said as he approached his old friend.

            ‘Surprise.’ Blaise greeted him with a smirk and they hugged. In a very manly way of course. All about those macho hugs.

            ‘Men.’ Pansy said with a roll of her eyes, but Draco knew she didn’t mean it because she’d failed to conceal her amused smile. She picked at her bright red fingernails as she waited.

            ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’

            ‘I’ve just finished Paris fashion week and I’m hanging around for a while, catching up with old faces, trying to wrangle some collab deals for next season. You know the score.’ Blaise went into modelling after Hogwarts and had taken the muggle fashion industry by storm with his cleverly tailored clothes which really were one-size-fits-all. Of course, that was because they were all charmed to adjust to the individual’s body shape, but the muggles didn’t know that. He was particularly popular among plus size and maternity demographics, because his clothes adapted with their owners. Draco was convinced that muggles couldn’t be quite that stupid, but maybe he wasn’t appreciative enough of how vain some people could be. Yes, the irony of that statement wasn’t lost on him.

            ‘I see. Well, seeing as you’ve decided to grace us with you ever stunning presence, welcome to my slightly-rundown, fixer-upper abode!’ Draco said cheerfully. France really was doing wonders for him.

            As Draco unlocked the wrought-iron gates, Blaise all but ran up the long driveway, whilst Pansy hung back, gripping Draco’s sleeve tightly.

            ‘He didn’t lie about fashion week,’ she said quietly, ‘but he’s really worried there’s something in this house. Don’t underestimate how much he cares about you. We’ve seen you go through a lot and we just want you to be happy.’ Draco felt like she was saying a thousand things all at once without really saying anything at all and he appreciated that about his ex-Slytherin friends. They always knew what to say without making a big deal about it.

            He offered Pansy his arm and they strode up the driveway after Blaise who’d already disappeared into the distance. Draco could see that tall conifers had once lined the gravelled path and he thought he might replace them. They weren’t strictly needed with the wards already in place, but they’d look mightily impressive.

Inside, the chateau was much as Draco had expected it. The hallway was almost completely white marble with a wide central staircase complete with gilded gold handrails. As he glanced around, the whole place screamed grandeur, but years of neglect had taken its toll. The giant crystal chandelier had fallen from the ceiling at some point, leaving a gaping hole in the ornate ceiling mouldings and a scattering of jewels across the floor that were so dusty they probably wouldn’t even glint should they be exposed to sunlight.

            There were giant gold picture frames hanging from nearly every wall, each and every one abandoned by its inhabitants. Draco couldn’t blame them, this wasn’t exactly an enjoyable sight to behold. Blaise twittered on about the potential of the place and the intelligence of the architecture whilst Pansy, like Draco, remained mostly silent. Draco would have thought that this place had been abandoned in a hurry, had it not been for the meticulously placed dust covers on the remaining items of antique furniture. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to Draco, most wizards would have cast household stasis charms on a place like this, to make it look like no one had ever left, and if they’d abandoned it in a hurry they certainly wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of covering the furniture. Draco wondered if perhaps it had been left deliberately this way, but why?

            He left Pansy and Blaise on the balcony of the first-floor parlour and explored the rest of the chateau alone. After taking a few wrong turns and getting lost, he eventually found what could only be described as the master suite, although it took up almost a whole floor. Draco was drawn immediately to the floor-to-ceiling white shutters – he could just imagine himself waking up in this room and drawing them slowly, letting the whole room flood with bright sunlight-

            ‘Master prefers this room to all others.’ Draco jumped half out of his skin and let out a rather undignified squawk. He wheeled around to find a craggy old house elf so decrepit, he made Kreacher look lively.

            ‘Who are you?’ Draco asked. It was a stupid question though, since he could already figure it out.

            ‘Spungen, sir. I welcome you back to _Château des Boucliers._ ’ The elf bowed so low his long, hooked nose touched the floor.

            ‘Castle of Shields? Interesting. Thank you, Spungen.’ Draco said formally.

            ‘Master is the last heir of the Malfoy family and the Noble House of Black, but he does not bear either name. Spungen was woken from his sleep upon Master’s arrival.’ Spungen declared. House elf magic was always tied to the magic of the family they served, it was one of the ways the family trees updated with every descendent.

            ‘Yes,’ Draco said tightly. ‘The Malfoy line ends with me.’ He had never much cared about being the end of his family line, not after he saw what obsession with blood purity and magical families could do, but he had to admit that it was sad that a place as beautiful as this didn’t have a family to own it. He could of course marry again and start his own family, but the magic in houses such as this thrived on the blood of those who built it. ‘Spungen?’ Draco asked.

            ‘Yes, Master?’

            ‘Was this house owned by the Blacks or by the Malfoys?’

            ‘The Malfoys, Master. Spungen can feel the house will accept an heir from the Noble House of Black, should Master know the correct procedures.’ Spungen shot Draco a scarily knowing look for a house elf addressing his master. ‘Spungen will prepare the chateau now.’ With a crack Spungen was gone.

            ‘There you are!’ Pansy exclaimed a moment later when she finally caught up with Draco.

            ‘Were you talking to someone? I heard voices.’ She looked around as if expecting someone to jump out from behind the armoire.

            ‘House elf.’ He said casually. ‘Apparently I disrupted his sleep.’

            ‘Only one?’ Pansy said, her nose wrinkling and her face twisting in distain. ‘I thought you were supposed to be posh Draco.’ He snorted an undignified laugh and followed her as she strutted out of the room.

            ‘Hey Pansy,’ he said as they descended the stairs together, ‘how would you and Blaise like to put your heads together on an interior design project once I’ve got this place up and running?’ Pansy turned a huge grin on him.

            ‘Draco, darling, I thought you’d never ask.’

            They didn’t stay at the chateau long – Blaise had always been too fidgety to stay in one place, he thrived in the bustling streets of the city. Draco had always thought he would be like that but since he’d settled with Harry he’d realised he needed the peace a lot more than he cared to admit. It had suited them well, since Harry had always been running from the next press scandal. Come to think of it, they’d spent most of their marriage running from something or other.

            He kissed Pansy on both cheeks as they parted ways, with promises of coming back here once he’d made the place structurally sound again so she could begin her designing. He thought she could use something to occupy her spare time. She was of course highly busy with whatever it was she was doing in Dubai of course, but reading between the lines Draco was sure much of what she told him what somewhat embellished. Twice now she’d taken last minute trips to visit him. The Pansy of five years ago would never have had the time to drop everything with no notice at all. He wasn’t oblivious. Still, she was ever the proud Slytherin.

When Draco arrived home, he found an owl waiting for him. Frowning deeply at the unexpected mail, he let it in, hoping that his muggle neighbours hadn’t noticed them. He realised it was in fact Eltanin and his heart picked up with worry. He hoped Teddy was writing to him to tell him how great things were going and not that he was missing home too much.

 

_Draco,_

_I got sorted into Hufflepuff! That’s ok, isn’t it? There’s a boy in Slytherin who says Hufflepuff is the leftover house but that’s not true, is it? The Slytherins seem mean, but I know they can’t all be mean because you’re a Slytherin and you’re the best._

_Mr Filch gave me detention already because I accidently changed my hair colour and scared him. People don’t seem to like him much._

_It’s ok though because I have this really cool new friend. He’s called Callum and he says my hair is the coolest thing he’s ever seen. He’s in Hufflepuff too so we have all the same lessons. My favourite so far is charms, but I like herbology too._

_What was your favourite lesson when you were at school?_

_I have to go, it’s the first quidditch match of the year and it’s Ravenclaw against Gryffindor. Harry says Gryffindor are the best, but I think he forgot he doesn’t play for them anymore. Did you know they’ve been last for the past five years? I’m not sure if I like quidditch yet._

_I love you,_

_Teddy._

Draco grinned at Teddy’s ability to flit from subject to subject so quickly. He remembered when he tried to write his first letters to his father, all of which he refused to respond to until he thought the style sufficiently succinct. Draco would never be like that with Teddy. He wrote a quick response, assuring Teddy that Hufflepuff was a perfect fit for him and that he was very proud of how well he was settling in. He let Eltanin rest for a while since he knew the new owl didn’t have much experience with such long-distance flights.

            He was almost worried that he hadn’t heard from Harry. He shouldn’t be, since that was the entire reason for his move, but considering Harry’s previous behaviour it seemed odd. He’d already barged his way into Draco’s home on multiple occasions over issues much more minor than this. Had Harry really not noticed Draco’s departure? He found that unlikely, especially after the mess they’d made after their stupid night out. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d actually slept with Harry again. He had to admit, he was almost disappointed that he didn’t remember any of it. He couldn’t deny Harry had always been a damn good shag, even if he was pants at most other things.

            He also still hadn’t figured out who’d stepped in at Gringotts. He’d already owled asking for information on who was involved in the decision and as he’d expected, the goblins had been incredibly tight-lipped about the whole affair. Still, it jangled Draco’s nerves more than a little knowing someone other than Hermione had known about his departure. Hermione was a lot of things, but deceitful wasn’t one and she probably didn’t hold that kind of sway with the goblins. Kingsley, maybe? He could certainly pull strings. Would he actually be willing to do that for Draco? Again, unlikely.

 

∞

 

Draco spend the next few weeks visiting the chateau daily, helping Spungen repair the internal fixtures and the subsidence. He spent hours trawling the narrow-cobbled back streets of wizard Paris, looking for books on architectural charms. He repaired the cracks in the ceilings, the damp on the walls, he reattached chandeliers and high-vaulted curtain rails. He learned specialist restorations charms for the portraits, carefully siphoning off layers of dust and debris without damaging the structure of the paint beneath. He re-varnished the frames and replaced their hangings.

            A week into his overhaul, the first couple of inhabitants began to return to the smaller frames, eager to find out who was present in the chateau once again. Draco found the portraits became the closest human contact he had; they told him all about the history of the chateau and the generations of Malfoys who had lived there. Draco was surprised to discover that most of his paternal ancestors were in fact nothing like his father, and highly disapproved of his actions once Draco told them what had become of their lineage.

            Draco learned that there had once been a team of thirty house elves who serviced the chateau. Its use had dwindled in the late 1930s and early 1940s due to the family’s associations with Grindlewald. The last Malfoy to step on the chateau’s grounds had been his grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy in the late 1970s, who had tried to make the chateau look abandoned in the face of Ministry raids during the first rise of Voldemort. He had never intended the chateau to remain empty for so long, and he hadn’t really had to do much to make it look the way it had when Draco had arrived; the perpetual confusion of the Malfoy family allegiances had weakened the family magic and the chateau had decayed largely of its own accord.

            Draco wasn’t solely interested in his new estate however. Some days he really didn’t feel like straining his eyes of oil canvases or dealing with yet another boggart in the closet. He also spent time in the flat he was renting, trying out new potions. He decided, despite his growing love for restoration, that if he were ever to get an apothecary up and running, it would specialise solely in mental health. Draco didn’t believe that mental health problems should be dealt with only with pills and potions, he firmly believed in the benefits of a strong support network, mind healers and even simple things like trying to smile and have a positive mental attitude. Because of this, some of his potions had no medicinal properties whatsoever. Some were muscle relaxants or sleep aides, some were herbal concoctions to induce calm or aid sleep. His knowledge of herbology grew in leaps and bounds, not that he hadn’t had an acceptable amount of knowledge to begin with, and it had even led to the occasional exchange of owls with Neville Longbottom, who fully supported Draco’s venture into mental healthcare after his own experiences in the war.

            Draco felt more like himself in his first month in France than he ever had in England. He didn’t pretend as though he didn’t miss his friends, and he sorely missed his little wolf, but it had been the right decision to get away from it all.

            ‘Draco, I owe you an apology.’ Hermione said. They sat in his flat on a bitterly cold, later October afternoon, cocooned in woollen blankets and scarves and plied with endless amounts of tea. Draco had slowly been reducing his coffee intake, realising how bad it had been for his anxiety.

            ‘You don’t owe me any such thing.’ He said honestly. He didn’t resent Hermione for trying to make him stay, he understood now why she had thought it so important, and he would never have confronted half of the issues he had if she hadn’t stopped him from running away.

            ‘No, I do. It was selfish of me to make you stay in a place you weren’t happy in, I didn’t realise how bad things really were. I would never have suggested it if I’d known.’ Hermione had come to visit him after a three-day conference in Brussels where she’d been debating whether European magical authorities had the right to share information on known criminal activities between states, or whether it was an infringement of human rights of people who may be suspected but not charged with anything. Draco thought it was fascinating, and he admired her drive and passion on the subject immensely.

            ‘Hermione,’ he said gently, taking her small hand in his large one. ‘We could sit here and shift blame all day, but it won’t change anything and it won’t make either of us feel any better. What’s done is done and all we can do is learn from it.’ She smiled at him warmly.

            ‘You know, you’ve grown more in these last five months than I think you have in years.’ Draco pulled his hand back to take another swig of tea and mulled over her words. Did that mean he hadn’t grown as a person during his marriage? If coming to France and finding himself had been such a good thing for him, did that mean Harry was bad? He didn’t want to believe that his marriage to Harry had been a mistake. When they were good together they were _so_ good. In the few minutes Draco had withdrawn into his mind, Hermione had sensed a shift in the mood.

            ‘He misses you, you know.’ Hermione said quietly. Draco looked at her. ‘It’s true. He was furious when he realised you’d just upped and left. I’ve never seen him so bad. He nearly destroyed your flat when he found it empty. Don’t worry though, I caught him in time.’ She added hastily, acknowledging Draco’s alarmed expression.

            ‘He always did have a temper on him.’ Draco wasn’t quite sure why he’d decided to talk about Harry as if he was past tense, but he went with it.

            ‘I told him not to contact you.’ She said, a little abruptly, but answering his next question nonetheless. ‘I thought you needed the space.’

            ‘I did tell him that. I told you that too. Hell, I think I told everyone that.’ Draco wasn’t angry, not anymore. He knew his friends just wanted what they thought was best for him. At the end of the day, the only one who really knew him was himself.

            ‘I know. I guess we’re all just suckers for a happy ending.’ She sighed. ‘Hey, it’s getting late, do you mind if I stay for tonight?’

            ‘Of course not. Take my room, I’ll take the sofa. You should floo Ron though, let him know in case he worries.’ Draco offered her a tired smile and gave her some privacy to floo-call her husband while he went to get some spare blankets for himself. It took him a few minutes to find them since he hadn’t needed them since he’d moved in.

            He passed Hermione again in the tiny little hallway and she caught his arm as she passed.

            ‘You’re a good man Draco, and you deserve to be happy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, not even yourself.’ He kissed her cheek gently.

            ‘Thanks Hermione. You’re not so bad yourself.’

            ‘Goodnight, Draco.’

            ‘Night.’


	11. Chapter 11

When Draco stirred the following morning, his warming charms had dropped overnight, and his body temperature potion had worn off. Hermione was already up and dressed and finishing her morning tea, eager to get home. He didn’t blame her; international portkeys were a drain on your magic and she probably missed Hugo and Rose terribly. Draco was the same with Teddy when he was that age.

‘Sorry, Draco. I really have to shoot.’ She said when Draco wandered in, still in his pyjamas.

‘It’s fine, Hermione. I understand. You’d better attack those flame-headed kids with

hugs from me though. It’s the least you can do.’ She smiled at him widely.

‘Of course I will. They adore you.’ He rolled his eyes at her.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t ruin the famous Malfoy image. Your secret is safe with me. There is one thing I wanted you to know before I left though.’ She said, turning away from him and looking out the window.

‘What is it?’ He said wearily. Hermione was brash and bold, and it wasn’t very often she didn’t come right out with it.

‘Well, you see, you know that letter you got from Gringotts? The one that told you about the estate?’ He frowned.

‘How did you know about that?’ He asked her coldly. An angry flush crept up the back of her neck.

‘I saw it on your kitchen table when I went after Harry.’ She said. He wasn’t sure it she was just embarrassed or if she was actually just an excellent liar.

‘What about it?’ He pressed. She sighed and turned back towards him.

‘It was Harry. Ron saw you leaving Gringotts on his way to the shop in the morning and because you looked like you were raising the fires of hell – Ronald’s words, not mine – he asked Harry if he knew anything about it. Of course, Harry didn’t know a thing. So, he pulled strings in the DMLE and had you investigated. He basically bullied the goblins into overturning the decision. I know you’ll be angry Draco, but I just wanted you to know. He’s not angry that you left, he’s angry that you didn’t tell him you wanted go to.’

‘Right.’ Draco had no idea what to say. Harry had gone behind his back yet again. Maybe, if Harry had just asked Draco, he’d have told him. Then again, Draco had never given him much reason to believe he would tell the truth. He’d made such a mess. Still, he thought they’d turned a corner after their last meeting and he’d hoped Harry would have learned from his mistakes by now. Apparently not.

‘I’m really sorry to drop it on you like that. I just couldn’t face keeping it from you.’ She said, her face fraught with worry. He sighed and tried not to get angry. It wasn’t her fault Harry was a hot-headed prick, there was no point in shooting the messenger.

‘No. It’s fine. You were right to tell me.’ He said, although it didn’t really sound like his own voice.

‘I really need to go. Thanks for letting me stay.’ She dropped her mug in the sink and kissed him on the cheek before disappearing through the floo, all whilst he didn’t change positions.

Now with ice in his chest to match the dull ache in his bones and a numbness in his toes and fingers, he stumbled through to the box room he’d turned into a tiny potions lab to get his daily potion dosage.

            As he waited a couple of minutes for the potions to take effect, he walked through the apartment and replenished his warming charms. A more skilled wizard than Draco would’ve been able to weave warming charms into to the apartment walls themselves, but Draco only knew how to replenish old charms. He could pay someone to do it for him, but since he’d effectively given Pansy and Blaise free run of furnishing the chateau when it was ready, he didn’t think he should be too frivolous with his galleons. Plus, walking around helped aid the blood flow to his extremities. He staunchly refused to think about what Hermione had just told him.

            Eventually his potions took the edge off the morning’s shock, and Draco wondered how cold the winters would get here. He hadn’t had much luck finding a suitable lot for his apothecary, and he hadn’t even tried to find any suppliers because he’d been so focused on his new chateau. It was coming along well, and with Spungen’s help Draco was sure by the end of the next week it would be ready for Pansy and Blaise to do-over. Draco had of course set strict rules on design themes so that it would remain in-keeping with the style and history of the building, but they both seemed very excited at the prospect and Draco felt lucky that he had such supportive friends. Nevertheless, he knew his own fragility, and he pondered the wisdom of staying in a cold flat through the winter, the autumn had been tough enough.

            Draco wandered over to the kettle to make himself tea and he thought that it was probably some sort of fate which stopped him fulfilling his plans. This way he could be back in England for Christmas, without the weight of an apothecary across the continent on his shoulders, and he could be home for Teddy coming back just as he’d promised. Just like he had with Harry, he’d tell Teddy the truth at the first opportunity, and hope that his transparency and honestly earned him the chance he probably didn’t deserve. If it didn’t, then he’d just have to hope that one day his little wolf would grow up to understand why Draco had done what he’d done, and that it didn’t mean he loved him any less.

            Draco sat by the window to drink his tea, and he watched the sunrise creep over the rooftops of Paris surburbs. He’d become a much earlier riser than he ever had been before, and he’d grown to appreciate the still freshness of the dawn. As he slowly drank his tea, he became vaguely aware of a shift in the magic around him. Confused, he drew his attention away from the pink-streaked sky and glanced around. The room was still, and in the weak rays of sunlight, he could see dusty particles floating as if carried by an invisible breeze. Nevertheless, something was wrong.

            He set his tea down on the windowsill and stood to investigate when he saw something he never expected to see again in his life. Every muscle, every ligament, every tendon in his body seized up at the same time.

            ‘Father.’ His voice echoed through the dimly lit room.

            ‘Draco.’ His father repeated in the same flat tone.

            ‘What the- you can’t be- you’re dead.’ He eventually stuttered out.

            ‘And yet I’m here.’ Draco’s heart pounded, his head span, his mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour.

            ‘No. No you’re not.’ Draco’s voice cracked. His father was dead, he couldn’t hurt him now. He could feel it, everything was wrong. Magic prickled harshly across his skin, like he was being stabbed with hundreds of tiny needles.

            Suddenly bright green light exploded through the room. It filled every crack and every corner and reminded Draco sickeningly of the Avada Kedavra curse. His father laughed manically as a scorching hot pain lanced through Draco from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. He heard himself scream in agony as he staggered, unable to take his own weight. He desperately fumbled around in the green for his wand, he didn’t remember dropping it. All he could think was that he needed Harry. Something like this wasn’t normal, even by wizarding standards, and Draco needed Harry.

            Draco hadn’t cast a corporeal patronus since the day he’d left his marital home, but he’d be damned if he failed to do it now. He wasn’t being quick enough. The pain was getting stronger and his mind was fogging with the strain of holding on. He felt as if he was being split in two while a ghost of his father laughed on amused. The last thing he thought before he blacked out was that he would surely die here, alone.

 

∞

 

He was in his garden, sitting on the swing seat and watching Teddy tumble about on the lawn. He was already six and Draco couldn’t quite believe how quickly he was growing up, or how little balance he had, running around much like a toddler. Still, the knocks and falls didn’t seem to be bothering him at all. Draco had never been allowed to play like that in the manor gardens and he was determined that Teddy’s childhood would be the absolute of Draco’s own stuffy one. Children were supposed to be wild and have fun before the pressures and responsibilities of life caught up to them.

            He watched as Teddy’s hair turned a deep ebony shade and he glanced around to see Harry crossing the law towards Draco, a beaming smile on his face as he saw Teddy wander off to the sandpit they’d built him – that really he was a little old to be using – and nearly fall headfirst into it. He’d heard Teddy’s mother had been incredibly clumsy and it wouldn’t surprise him if Teddy was just the same. He didn’t like to think about that though, Teddy was his little wolf now. He didn’t want to admit that Teddy wasn’t really his. It was so easy to forget when he could change his appearance so easily.

            ‘You’re such a housewife.’ Harry laughed as he sat down next to Draco. He swung his legs up into Harry’s lap and he didn’t complain.

            ‘I resent that accusation.’ Draco said playfully.

            ‘You know what I mean,’ Harry glanced at him sideways to make sure he knew Harry was joking, ‘you watch him like he’s a china doll.’ Draco shrugged.

            ‘He’s far more precious that a china doll, Potter, how dare you degrade our son like that.’ Harry shoved at one of Draco’s legs and it slipped off Harry’s lap, his ankle bone clanging on the edge of the seat painfully.

            ‘You little shit,’ he snapped. Harry just grinned at him.

            ‘I’ll take little shit over Potter. You’re going to have to stop calling me that eventually, you know.’

            ‘No I don’t.’ He said stubbornly, ‘how else will you know when you’re pissing me off?’

            ‘Draco, I always piss you off.’ Draco lifted his feet from Harry’s lap and repositioned himself so that he could plaster himself to Harry’s side. Harry wrapped an arm around him and Draco was hit with an unexpected feeling of coming home.

            ‘Not always, you’re not so bad sometimes.’

            ‘Oh just sometimes? Always so giving with the compliments. Anyway, if you keep calling me Potter when we’re married you’ll just end up confusing everyone.’

            ‘What utter rot.’ Draco rolled his eyes, ‘if I stop calling you Potter everyone will think I’ve gone mad. Besides, who said anything about marrying you?’ He watched as Harry’s face dropped into mock-horror.

            ‘I knew you just wanted a house out of me! I should never have agreed to build a potions lab for you, you’re way too spoilt.’ Draco grinned and kissed him gently, trying to keep it Teddy-suitable even though really, he was dying to rip Harry’s clothes off and take him upstairs. He could tell from the way Harry kept drawing him in that he was struggling with the effort too.

            ‘Do you think we’re doing this too fast?’ Draco asked him. It had been weighing on his mind since the article had surfaced. They still hadn’t figured out who had blabbed to Rita Skeeter.

            ‘Does it feel too fast? We’ve known each other since we were eleven.’ Harry regarded Draco carefully and he tried his best not to give away how scared he was of making another big mistake. Harry couldn’t be a mistake though, could he? Draco loved him with all his heart.

            ‘No.’ He admitted. He didn’t know why the gossip was getting to him, he was usually so good at blocking it out.

            ‘There you go then,’ Harry said with a smile and kissed him again. ‘I don’t care what anyone else thinks, I care what you think.’

            ‘DADDY!’ Draco’s attention was drawn away from Harry when Teddy came bounding up to them. He launched himself into the non-existent gap between the two of them, except instead of feeling the crushing weight of a little boy against his side, Draco felt like he’d been slammed into a side-along apparition completely unawares. He felt the temperature around him drop and he shivered. He’d been dressed for the summer sun and that been ripped so cruelly from him.

There was nothing, there was just blackness. He felt like he was floating, but maybe underwater. He couldn’t see anything or hear anything. He tried moving an arm or a leg, wiggling a finger or a toe, but he wasn’t even sure he still had a body anymore.

There was nothing, but there was pain. It was like he’d been thrown into the fiery pits of hell and left to burn out. White hot lances of pain whipped at him from all angles and he imagined this must be what it was like when a star died.

He had no idea how long he’d been here, suspended in nothingness. A minute? An hour? A day? Weeks? He doesn’t remember what came before. He doesn’t have the energy to reach into his mind and find out. He doesn’t much care about what his name is or where he came from. He just wants to get out.

Is there anything outside of this? He can’t see a way out, there’s nothing to see at all. Should he wait for the pain to go away or should he let it take him. He isn’t sure. Keeping track of time had never been his strong suit anyway.

Hey, at least he knew that about himself.

He was just about to give up hope when he saw a figure in the distance. It was strangely ghostly and for a minute he wondered whether he really was stuck between the planes of existence. He walked towards the figure. Or at least, that’s what he thought he did. He couldn’t tell if he actually had any arms and legs and he felt like he was moving through something that was much thicker than water but just as cold, but he got closer to it never the less.

            ‘Mother?’ He asked disbelievingly. Even his voice sounded as if it was underwater; muffled and warped and it completely contrasted with the fire in his veins. The figure turned, and Draco realised that it was indeed his mother. She was foggy and not totally in focus, but she was there, and just like that he remembered.

            ‘Oh my boy, what have you done this time?’ She said sadly, tears streaking down her face. She reached out a hand to touch his cheek, but he felt nothing, and her hand went straight through.

            ‘Mummy,’ his odd voice cracked, and he wanted nothing more than to cry in her arms like he had when he was a little boy. He couldn’t cry now though, he didn’t know how to.

            ‘I know baby, but you need to listen to me.’ She didn’t look the same as she had the last time he saw her. Before she died she’d been painfully thin, her cheeks sunken and her complexion yellowed.

The war had taken its toll on his mother, but the death of his father had really finished her off. She hadn’t been the same after they’d had the patronus telling them his father had been found dead in his cell in Azkaban. The Ministry made it sound like Lucius had taken his own life in shame, but Narcissa and Draco had known Lucius was far too proud a man to have died in such a way. It would have brought shame to the family, as if he hadn’t already brought enough of that. Still, they hadn’t been in a position to challenge the ruling at the time.

‘Listen to what, Mum?’ She gave him a sad smile.

‘You can’t stay here Draco. You can go backwards, or you can go forwards, but you can’t stay here.’ She told him quietly. He was confused.

            ‘Go back where? Where am I?’ How was he supposed to choose when he didn’t know what he was choosing?

            ‘I can’t tell you that Draco. What I can tell you that there’s a man out there who loves you more than he loves life itself, and a little boy who thinks you’re his world, and if you love them too all you have to do is let them in.’ Draco thought of Harry. How he’d felt that morning after their little get-together after Teddy went to school. He should’ve known when he hadn’t jumped straight out of the bed and left and proceeded to cry himself to sleep in Harry’s arms, that his decision had already been made.

            ‘It’s not that simple.’ He told her. It wasn’t; they’d both lied, they’d both been angry, they’d both made mistakes, they’d both come too far to pretend like they were good for each other.

            ‘Isn’t it? He loves you, you love him. What could be simpler than that?’

            ‘He lied to me Mum. He lied again and again and now I don’t know if I can trust him. What if I need to have my secrets? He doesn’t understand.’

            ‘He doesn’t understand because you never gave him the chance to. He’ll never prove you wrong if you don’t let him.’ Draco didn’t know. He trusted his mother more than anyone in the world but that didn’t mean she was always right. She’d made her own fair share of bad decisions. He didn’t understand why she was doing this. When he’d told his parents he was gay it had nearly started another war.

            ‘But you and father-’

            ‘I made peace with your choices a long time ago baby. Your father tried, but we can’t all be perfect.’ She smiled at him gently, and for the first time in a long time Draco craved the old times when she’d kiss his knees when he’d played too hard and fallen over, or she’d spend hours trying to tame the naturally wavy hair he’d inherited from the Blacks just because his father said, “it’s not becoming of a Malfoy”.

            ‘I’m not ready. When I saw father he-’

            ‘You’ve seen your father here too?’ She asked him, seeming surprised.

            ‘No not here.’ He told her, ‘I saw him before-’

‘We’ve all got both light and dark inside us, Draco. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.’

‘Who are you?’ He asked her. She gave him one last, tired smile.

‘I’m you.’

 

∞

 

The real world was a nasty shock to Draco’s system. The smell of the hospital hit him first, although he daren’t open his eyes. He’d spent enough time in St Mungo’s over the years to know when he was in hospital. Harry had been there so often he even had his own bed. Funny that the tables had turned again. He had an odd kind of feeling that was like he was running through water – he assumed that must be potions in his bloodstream. Why did he always have to be on potions? He lay there for a long while, waiting for the feeling to return to his body.

            Once it had, he was engulfed in a raging fire of pain. It sizzled through his nerve endings and fried his capacity for any deep thought. He gritted his teeth to keep from crying out as he felt like someone had set him on fire. What the hell happened? He didn’t remember a thing after Hermione had left.

After a few moments the pain receded enough for him to risk cracking an eye open. He was curious to know what the warm pressed against his left palm was since he couldn’t do more than twitch his fingertips. So much for running before he could walk.

            ‘You’ll feel like that for a while.’ Draco peeled his eyes open slowly to see a young healer standing next to his bed with a clipboard in her hands.

            ‘Bad one, huh.’ He said. She nodded and smiled at him kindly. She was pretty, if you were into that kind of thing. Long, dark hair and wide, unassuming eyes.

            ‘You’re a lucky man, Mr Malfoy. For a while there we weren’t sure you were coming back to us.’ She finished taking whatever readings she was monitoring and put the clipboard back down at the end of his bed.

            ‘It’s Potter, actually.’ She gave him an even wider smile.

            ‘He hasn’t left your side the whole time you’ve been in. Slept in the chair and everything. The first week, I tried to send him home every night. By the second I realised that wasn’t going to happen.’ Draco looked to the other side, remembering the feeling against his hand.

            Harry was asleep on a terribly uncomfortable looking hospital chair. His messy head of hair was resting against Draco’s side, which gave Draco a perfect view of the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

‘I’ll send my supervisor through now you’re awake, I expect he’ll have a few questions.’ He nodded and turned back to ask the healer how long he was out, but she’d already gone, and he hadn’t even noticed.

            Draco was laying there watching Harry sleep and pointedly ignoring quite how disgustingly ill he really felt. Something big must have happened for Harry to be here. He was in St Mungo’s too, which means whatever it was he’d been brought back to England for treatment. Harry had been here the whole time, here for Draco. Draco’s chest swelled, despite the pain, and he realised that no matter what shit had gone on between them, this was what mattered. Harry would be there. Even if he thought Draco hated him. He loved Draco as much as Draco loved him. It was a nice realisation, it made him feel like the decisions he’d made up until this point had all been worth it. He’d gotten better and he’d understood how he really felt.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the door opened once again.

            ‘Mr Potter! It’s a pleasure to see you awake.’ The new healer reminded Draco a little of Gilderoy Lockhart with his wavy blonde hair and too-white teeth. Draco’s stomach turned, and he wasn’t convinced it was whatever potions they must have him on.

            ‘It’s nice to be awake.’ His voice was croaky from lack of use and it caused him to cough quite loudly, only exacerbating his pain. It didn’t wake Harry though. Draco was unbelievably annoyed that he hadn’t escaped their awkward dalliance a few months ago, yet Harry could sleep through this.

            ‘Sorry, you should probably take it easy with the talking, you’ve been out for quite some time.’ Draco nodded.

            ‘There isn’t much we can do for you at the minute I’m afraid, your recovery will mainly be a lot of rest to restore your magic levels. I need to do a few tests now that you’re awake and once I’ve got the results through I can come back and discuss what happened. Is that ok?’ Draco nodded again, not in the mood for talking all that much. Lockhart-a-like gave him another blinding smile and started waving his wand in some quite ludicrous movements. Draco wasn’t sure if he really was that incompetent or whether he was just trying to show off to him.

            He must’ve drifted back off the sleep after that, as when he resurfaced the healer was gone and the shadows in the room had shifted dramatically with the sun. He figured it was probably sometime in the late afternoon. Harry was gone too, which made Draco feel oddly bereft.


	12. Chapter 12

            ‘You’re awake!’ He jumped as the door swung open and Hermione stepped in, looking an odd combination of surprised and ecstatic. Draco huffed a strangled laugh and was hit with a wave of pain which radiated out from his sternum through to his little toes. At least he knew he had toes again. ‘Yeah, you’ll be feeling like that for a while.’ She said when he groaned in pain.

            ‘How long have I been here?’ His voice sounded marginally better than it had before but it was still gravelly, a touch hoarse, and all too much like a grandfather who’d been smoking forty a day for the past three decades.

            ‘Three weeks. You’re lucky Harry has the temper he does. When he realised I’d told you about Gringotts he was determined to go after you and explain. If he hadn’t, well…’ She trailed off. She placed her outer robes on the back of the spare chair in the corner of the room and stood where the healer had been when she’d checked on him before.

            ‘You say that like it isn’t a long time.’ Draco didn’t want to think about what it meant that Harry had crossed the channel to explain himself to Draco. Instead he focused on the practical details.

            ‘It isn’t when you’ve had your magical core completely detached from your body.’

            ‘I-what?’ She rolled her eyes.

            ‘Honestly, Draco. What did you think happened? Only you could move 500 miles away from home and take your work with you.’

            ‘This is to do with the case? Why wasn’t I kept up to date? I thought Harry would’ve-’

            ‘Harry isn’t Head Auror anymore.’ She cut in. If Draco’s head hadn’t been spinning before, it certainly was now.

            ‘What happened? Please don’t tell me it was because of me.’ Hermione pushed some hair away from Draco’s forehead and he was surprised by the gentleness of the gesture. He and Hermione had been good friends for a long time, but physical contact beyond the occasional hug was never much of a thing.

            ‘Draco, Harry hasn’t been Head Auror since October.’ Draco’s brows furrowed.

            ‘Since October? But I moved in October.’ He protested. Surely Harry would’ve told him if he’d been planning on leaving the force.

            ‘I see it hasn’t taken you two long to talk about me behind my back.’ Harry’s voice almost matched Draco’s in its grogginess as he appeared from behind Hermione, but it still made Draco’s heart swoop inside his chest. Or maybe that was the potions.

            ‘Harry, we’re always talking behind your back.’ Draco realised he sounded like a drunk teenager after an all-night bender, but Harry smiled at him all the same.

            ‘Well, as nice as that might be. There are more important things to talk about. How are you feeling? Are you in pain? Does the healer know you’re awake yet?’ It was Draco’s turn to roll his eyes.

            ‘I’ve been awake ages, Harry. You’re the one who’s late to the party. I feel like I’ve been trampled on by a heard of Hippogriffs and fed to the Giant Squid, but I think I’ll survive.’ It was lame humour, but Draco didn’t want to admit how terrible he really felt.

            ‘You didn’t half scare me to death Draco.’ Harry said as he sat down in the same chair he’d been sitting in when Draco had woken the first time.

            ‘I’m sorry,’ he said a little sheepishly. He couldn’t understand what had happened. Hermione had just left and he’d been drinking his tea, how had he-?

‘I saw my father.’ He blurted out. He wasn’t sure why he said it, he just had a sudden flash of remembrance of what had happened before he blacked out and it sort of just came out. Harry looked surprised, Hermione looked alarmed. Hermione opened her mouth as if to barrage his with questions, but Harry held up a silencing hand.

            ‘Another time, Hermione.’ He said calmly, and she snapped her mouth shut.

            ‘I’ll leave you two to catch up.’ She said, shooting Harry a pointed look. She left without picking her robes back up from the back of the chair, so Draco assumed that it wasn’t the last he’d be seeing of her.

            ‘You’re not Head Auror anymore.’ Draco said as soon as she closed the door behind her, and Harry had the decency to look embarrassed.

            ‘No, I’m not.’ He admitted.

            ‘And you didn’t tell me, because?’ Draco asked him. Harry sighed and looked down at his hands, one of which was clasped in Draco’s. He played with Draco’s fingers and he would’ve been irritated at the obviously distracting tactic, but still couldn’t really feel it.

            ‘Would it have changed anything if I had?’ He asked, glancing up at Draco. Draco had to admit he had a point, but Harry didn’t give him a chance to fanswer. ‘I’d planned on leaving a long time before you were brought in on that case, I just didn’t see the point in saying anything.’

            ‘Of course. Well, I suppose you wanted to spend time with your new girlfriend, since I hear from Teddy she’s started inviting herself ‘round to the house.’ Draco said stiffly. Harry sighed.

            ‘Draco, you’ve just woken up from a near-death experience, which, by the way, no one is quite sure how you survived, and you want to talk about my girlfriend? Draco, I don’t have a girlfriend, I’ve never had a girlfriend. I haven’t had a girlfriend since Ginny.’ That was laughable, but now wasn’t the time for laughing.

            ‘I see.’ He said simply. Harry’s eyes widened in frustration.

            ‘Draco, I wouldn’t lie to you now. Not after everything.’

            ‘Oh, really? And I suppose you don’t count going to Gringotts and messing with my finances as lying then?’ He didn’t want to get angry again, he really didn’t, but Harry could be so full of shit sometimes.

            ‘I’m sorry. It was bad, I get it. I just know how much it means to you that you feel like you earn your living but the thing is, you don’t have to do it all on your own, it’s ok to let other people do things for you once in a while.’ Draco still didn’t think Harry had done the right thing, but he could understand that he meant well.

            ‘Fine,’ he sighed, letting the topic drop. ‘You still have to explain who your not-girlfriend is though.’ Harry blushed to his roots and Draco thought it was one of the most adorable things he’d ever seen.

            ‘Helen is a social worker.’ Harry said as though that settled the matter. A what? Was he having a laugh?

            ‘And you’re spending time with an attractive “social worker” because? Is this because of Teddy? What the hell have you done Harry?!’ This was like pulling teeth.

            ‘Calm down Draco, it’s nothing like that. I bought an old manor house I’d like to turn into an orphanage.’ He said. Draco’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline and it made his head ache, but it was worth it because Harry manage to elaborate. ‘I decided quite a while ago that I didn’t want to be an auror anymore,’ he began. ‘Then the Head Auror opportunity came up and I took it on as a favour to Kingsley. He didn’t have anyone else who was capable of taking on the role and I couldn’t leave him in the shit like that.’

            Draco was wounded. This began long before their divorce and Draco hadn’t known a thing.

            ‘As soon as I took it I started looking for other opportunities. It turns out whilst there are a lot of places are dying to have _Harry Potter_ work for them _, I_ wasn’t willing to be used like that.’ Draco understood that. Harry spent his life not knowing whether people were interest in him for him, or for his celebrity.

            ‘Anyway, after you left I started to feel like I wasn’t actually doing any good out there. I’d come home from work feeling like something was missing. Completing cases didn’t have the same satisfaction anymore. Hermione suggested writing in a journal, but I couldn’t keep it up. One day when I was out for beers with the guys, Dean was talking about an old manor house that was going up for sale in a muggle auction. He was complaining about how whoever bought it would probably tear it down and it was such a waste of the architecture or something. I don’t know, all that stuff is more your thing.’ Draco didn’t know what to say, so he tried to keep his mouth shut.

            ‘And this means you spending time with a social worker, because?’ He prompted after a pause.

            ‘Well, I bought the manor myself at the auction on a total whim. I’m not sure why but it felt like it was important. I stressed for ages about it and then I thought maybe I could turn it into an orphanage for magical children. I went to Kingsley and talked through the possibility of having a mix of muggle and magical staffing so that there wouldn’t be any more Tom Riddles in the world. That’s how I met Helen, she’s helping with all the muggle side of things. Paperwork, government approvals and CRB checks and all that kind of thing.’      

‘Wait, Leggy-Blonde it a muggle? How did she not notice when Teddy’s hair randomly changes colour?’ Draco couldn’t help but interject. They were totally off topic, but he needed to know.

            ‘Leggy-Blonde? How jealous were you, Draco?’ Harry smirked. Draco flushed but he refused to be intimidated.

‘Localised disillusionment charm. She never suspected a thing.’

            ‘And she was at the house on a Saturday when I came to pick up Teddy-’

            ‘Because she’d just received the planning permission for the refurb, which we could only get if we got approval for the whole project to go ahead. She was desperate to tell me the good news.’ Of course. Harry had answers for it all. Draco felt like a prized idiot for ever thinking Harry would date someone without telling Draco, or anyone else they knew for that matter.

            ‘Of course she was.’

            ‘She doesn’t even know my real name. I’m heading the project under an alias so that it doesn’t attract too much attention. I don’t want people to think I’m just doing it for the publicity. It’s all under the alias Albus Severus on both the muggle and the wizarding side of things.’ Draco physically winced, despite the accompanying pain.

            ‘Jesus Christ, Harry. Remind me to never, ever, let you name our kids.’ That was the worst alias name he’d ever heard in his life.

            ‘Our kids?’ Harry’s smile faded and suddenly the atmosphere in the room changed. Draco was not happy that he was confined to a hospital bed and couldn’t run away from the wave of emotion that came across him when Harry looked at him that way; intensely and unblinkingly, with that trademark sparkle in his green irises.

Draco opened his mouth to pathetically blabber his way back out of his stumble when another healer opened the door. It wasn’t the same one that Draco had seen before, but Draco was secretly grateful. This one looked about fifty and had a completely grey beard and generally appeared like he actually knew what he was doing.

            ‘Ah, Mr Potter. I see we’re awake again. No doubt you feel like shit and would rather not see me right now.’ Draco liked his guy immediately.

            ‘I see you’ve been trampled by hippogriffs before.’ Draco shot back, and the healer smiled widely.

            ‘Well, your mental faculties appear to be intact, that’s one to check off my list.’ He said pleasantly, and Draco was glad he got a healer that dealt with trauma the same way Draco did – horrendously sarcastic humour.

            ‘It’s going to take a long time for you to be up and about Mr Potter, your body is readjusting to its reattachment with your magic. It’s a very experimental procedure and I’d be grateful if you’d permit me to use your notes for research purposes.’ The healer said. Draco nodded and turned his attention to Harry.

            ‘Experiemental procedure? What did you do to me? Do people not normally recover from that kind of thing?’

            ‘I’ll tell you about it when we get home.’ Harry said. _Home,_ Draco thought. He didn’t want to go back to his horrible little flat.

            ‘Yes, that’s what I came to talk to you about.’ The healer interrupted. ‘We’re willing to let you leave, Mr Potter, as there is very little we can do here; your tests all came back clear. You’re going to have to be patient and wait for your magic to return slowly. It’ll be a very slow process and we’re not sure how much of your magical ability will ever fully return, but that’s a bridge we can cross when we come to it. For now, it’s all about physical rehabilitation. You haven’t moved in weeks and it’s likely you’ll have some muscular degeneration.’ Draco felt like he’d been slapped in the face. _We’re not sure how much of your magical ability will ever fully return._ Was he going to become a squib? No, he couldn’t handle that. Not now.

‘We’re happy to let you leave, as long as you have someone to stay with you while you recuperate, preferable with a next of kin. Which, if memory serves,’ the healer flicked through Draco’s file, ‘is the other Mr Potter.’ Draco couldn’t think straight; his heart was beating at a hundred miles an hour. He glanced warningly at Harry who squeezed his hand. It was a useless gesture since he could hardly feel it, but he did see it and he supposed it would have to do.

            ‘He can stay with me.’ Harry said immediately, and Draco’s heart skipped a beat at how enthusiastic Harry was about letting Draco back in what was supposed to be their family home.

            ‘Excellent. Well, this isn’t strictly hospital policy,’ the healer began, looking around as if checking to make sure no one could hear, even though they were in a private room. Yeah, Draco _really_ liked this guy. ‘But I’m willing to let Mr Potter apparate you home, Mr Potter.’ Draco could hear sentences like that all day and never get tired of it. ‘You just need to sign the discharge forms.’

            The healer passed the forms to Harry who signed them like a fan was asking for an autograph. Draco still couldn’t really feel his fingers, but he held the pen shakily and ignored the tingling pains down his arm long enough to sign his name in a wonky fashion above Harry’s.

            ‘Brilliant. I’ll inform Mrs Granger-Weasley of your whereabout then? Although, I doubt she needs me to, considering I found her listening at the door when I arrived.’

            ‘Hermioneeee.’ Harry groaned, dropping his head into Draco’s lap.

            ‘Oi, Potter. At least wait until we get home.’ Harry’s head shot straight back up and his flush was almost purple with embarrassment.

            ‘I’ll leave you gentlemen to it then, shall I?’ Yes, Draco this guy might be a bit old, but he would definitely be Draco’s type if he wasn’t hopelessly in love with Harry Potter.

 

∞

 

The second they were back in the house, Harry was kissing Draco within an inch of his life. He hadn’t even waited to put Draco down, he simply stood in the middle of the kitchen/living room, holding Draco bridle-style. It was, hands down, the best kiss Draco had ever received. Harry kissed him like he was a dying man, and Draco happily lapped it up. They had three years of this to catch up on.

            ‘Really?’ Harry asked him as he pulled away. Draco could stare at his thoroughly kissed-debauched face forever. ‘You couldn’t feel it when I spend ten minutes continuously stabbing your hand, but _that_ works just fine?’ Draco grinned cheekily.

            ‘It must just be your all-powerful presence.’ He said seriously. Harry grinned, and Draco kissed the grin right off his face. Kissing Harry had always been his favourite past-time.

            ‘You’re beautiful you know.’ Harry said as he set Draco down on the newly charm-extended sofa. When had Harry managed to do that? The sneaky bastard.

            ‘Not a patch on you.’ Draco replied. ‘But, as much as I would love for you to take me upstairs and fuck me into the mattress all night, I need you to explain what I missed when I was away.’ Away. That was how Draco was going to describe what happened to anyone who asked, because he’d never, not even for a second, thought about not coming back.

            Harry heaved a sigh as he sat down on the sofa with Draco and pulled Draco’s legs onto his lap as if they’d been doing this every day for six years instead of having been divorced.

            ‘What makes you think I know?’ Harry asked him, and Draco raised a single eyebrow at him.

            ‘Please, I bet Kingsley is still crying without you.’

            ‘Well, it turned out we couldn’t find anything that linked Runcorn of Hopkirk to the clinic because they weren’t directly involved. We’d assumed that the healers at the clinic were in on the deal because they’d been handing out those pills to everyone who walked through the door. It’s easy to assume private clinics will bend the law just to make a packet. Well, turns out they were doing that, just not the way we expected.’

            ‘Hm. I did always feel like something was missing. Couldn’t put my finger on it at the time.’ Draco admitted.

            ‘You’d never tell. Macmillian nearly chewed my ear off when he found that massive pinboard you made like that guy from _It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia_.’

            ‘I was trying to be thorough.’ Draco sniffed.

            ‘Anyway, it turns out the clinic were being paid vast sums to give certain clients the pills but weren’t in on the ring.’ Harry explained.

            ‘Ok, but surely a decent healer wouldn’t give out pills without checking their contents first, that’s not just about the money.’ Draco pointed out.

            ‘Well yes, quite. That’s why everyone at the practice had had their licences revoked.’ Harry said smugly. ‘I don’t know the particulars since I’d left before they’d cracked it, but it turns out they got them on the money trail. They didn’t cover up their tracks very well and there was a clear money exchange all the way from the clinic back to the supplier. Turns out they weren’t the brains of Britain.’

            ‘Where do I fit into this?’ Draco asked but he wasn’t sure if we wanted an answer.

            ‘It seems they found out you were on the case somehow. Turns out they were trying to find a way to kill off muggleborns without there being any direct contact involved between the neo-Death Eater movement and the general populous. You moved right into the area of their supplier and suddenly you take ill with the worst case ever? Not a coincidence.’

            ‘They tried to bump me off for being a traitor.’ Draco filled in the blanks.

            ‘Basically, yeah.’ Harry nodded. ‘I found the pills in your apartment when I found you. I think they were trying to frame you.’ Draco opened his mouth to apologise, for not sending those pills off as soon as he found them, but Harry cut him off.

            ‘Don’t you dare, Draco. None of this is your fault.’ He reached out and stroked a thumb across Draco’s right cheek and if it wasn’t just a little bit terrified of this situation, he probably would’ve melted right there and then. ‘Hell, if I hadn’t been such an arse to you, you never would have left in the first place. You have no idea how terrified I was when I saw you lying here. I thought you were dead. On the bright side though, if you’re the target of the neo-Death Eaters, you can’t be one of them. It’s done your reputation wonders.’ Harry joked but the implication was clear.

            ‘Listen, Harry, I-’

            ‘You don’t need to explain, Draco. We both made mistakes, we both went about things the wrong way. We can’t take any of it back, but I promise if you give me another chance, I’ll never be oblivious to your suffering again. I don’t care if it takes years, I’m completely and utterly in love with you and I’ll do anything. There’s been no one since you. No one even came remotely close.’ Draco could tell from the determination in Harry’s eyes that he was telling him the truth.

            ‘Come here.’ Draco made actual grabby hands at his soon-to-be-maybe-not-ex-husband, since he hadn’t regained the use of his limbs properly yet. Somehow, knowing Harry was here for him, the idea that he might live his life without his magic didn’t seem as scary as he thought it might be.

            Harry re-arranged them carefully, trying not to hurt him too much, until Draco was cuddled into Harry’s chest. Draco should’ve felt babied by Harry, but there was nothing infantile about this situation. Harry ran his hands gently through Draco’s messy hair and Draco breathed in the familiar scent of Harry – cedar and grapefruit – and clutched onto Harry’s shirt and tightly as he could without the feeling in his fingers.

‘You have no idea what it was like seeing you like that.’ Harry’s voice was thick, and he could tell he was holding in tears. Draco hoped he wouldn’t start crying; there were few things that could make Harry cry and if he did, Draco wouldn’t be far behind him.

‘You can tell me about it, if you want.’ Draco thought it would be hard to here, but if he wanted Harry back then they both had to be there for each other.

‘No,’ Harry said quietly, his voice cracking slightly. ‘Just know that you scared the crap out of me and you’re not allowed to do that ever again. I already lost you once, I won’t lose you again.’ Draco could feel the hurt radiating off Harry in waves and his heart did an uncomfortable flip in his chest.

‘You never lost me, Harry. There’s no point dragging it all out again, but I want you to know that even if I pretended like I hated you for a long time, I never stopped loving you.’ Draco could feel hot tears pricking in his own eyes and he willed them away. Now wasn’t the time to cry for what was lost, it was a time to hold on to what was left.

He tilted his head up and pressed a kiss just under Harry’s stubble covered jaw and didn’t complain at all when he felt the roughness under his lips. Harry kissed the top of Draco’s head and responded in a way that Draco wouldn’t forget for the rest of his life.

‘Please don’t go back to France. I know you’re too sick to travel right now but I mean, when you’re better. I love this house, but it isn’t the same without you. It’s not a home. I need you. Teddy needs you.’ He couldn’t speak, he was too choked up. He nodded his head as best he could although he was still unbearable stiff. Harry didn’t seem to mind – he dived in for another kiss and Draco couldn’t believe he was really here. They spent a few minutes simply laying there, enjoying each other’s company. Draco knew eventually they’d have to talk it out, much more than they had. He also knew that his road to recovery was probably a lot more complex than the healer had made it out to be, but somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to ruin this feeling of being with Harry again. After a while, he decided he should probably tell Harry what he’d seen.

‘Before I- before it happened, I saw my father. It wasn’t really my father, just a ghost of him I guess. When I was unconscious, I saw my mother. She told me that all I had to do was let you in. I don’t think it’s all that simple, but I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much even though really, I should hate you. Even after everything, it’s always been you.’ Harry didn’t say anything for a while and Draco thought he’d said too much, but then Harry was lifting his chin, forcing him to look at him.

‘I did so many things wrong, I know that. I haven’t given you a moment’s peace since everything fell apart and I didn’t realise how important it was for you to have you space. All I know is it killed me to think I might never get to talk to you like this or hold you like this again. I know life got in the way but we’re still us, aren’t we?’ Draco sighed. He wanted this so badly, he really did. He couldn’t say he wasn’t scared though. It was different now, they didn’t have to spend time getting to know each other and figuring out the future. They’d done that already and if they messed it up a second time there would be no going back.

Harry was looking at him that way he used to. Like Draco was the centre of the universe and nothing else mattered. His face was so close, his breath ghosting over Draco’s face and he wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. So, he did.

            ‘I love you Draco.’

            ‘I love you too Harry.’

Draco knew they weren’t about to jump straight back into a marriage that had been doomed from the start. He doubted they could even if they wanted to. They’d grown as individuals in the years they’d spent away from each other, and they understood how to be who they were on their own. Draco firmly believed they’d learned from past mistakes, and whilst they weren’t ready to be them again, Draco knew that one day, just maybe, they could be.

And so, at the end of Draco Potter’s agreement with Hermione Granger-Weasley, Draco found himself lounging in the living room of his old marital home, surrounded by the best, and the worst, of his memories, and he realised the only thing he’d ever needed was the man who lay with him, ready to risk it all for one last chance at happiness.


End file.
